LoonQuest
by Brithund
Summary: A semi-sequel to "Spring Fever" - what Really happened in the final semester at Acme Loo! Rated T for situations.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Every year around Midsummer, something strange happened around Acme Acres. The crash of anvils and pianos falling on toons faded away from the Western side of the city - and though it was harder to pinpoint on the map, gossip columnists found it harder to fill their pages without character assassinations and complex scams traceable to the far side of town.**

** Acme Looniversity and Perfecto Prep had no formal truce in May and June - but it was nearing final exam time for both and nobody had time or energy to spend on anything but furious preparation. Or, almost nobody...**

** "She loves me - she loves me lots. She loves me - she loves me lots..." Plucky Duck grinned at the sight of the final petal in his feather-hand as he approached Shirley McLoon's house. An instant later his expression turned to wide-eyed panic as he realised he had demolished the expensive bouquet he had been bringing over for his loon fiancée. His eyes darted around the landscape and a crafty expression attached itself to his beak. "Methinks a little rapid improvisation is in order."**

** "Like Hi, Plucky." A minute later Shirley opened the door just before he was about to knock, as usual. Although she was well turned-out as ever, her feathers had lost some of the glossy outdoor vitality she had built up in the sun and fresh air of Spring Break. "Shouldn't you be home studying?"**

** Plucky knelt and presented her with a fresh bouquet. "How can I think of dumb film gags and dusty scripts when the loon of my life is so near to me?"**

** Shirley took the flowers, and sighed. From their aura she could tell they had been picked from her own garden. "Happy thoughts, Plucky. Eight out of ten for sincerity." She had sworn not to read her friends' minds uninvited, but since finally accepting Plucky as her fiancé his was the exception - and besides, it was usually a very thin volume to read. "You'd better come in. I've been working since sunrise - my Aura tells me she needs to like, harmonise my energy flows." Her powder-blue astral body separated from her physical form and looked at the green mallard hungrily.**

** "Eeep..." Plucky turned a paler green. "I had to ask."**

** Shirley smiled, pulling him in and shutting the door firmly. "We're all alone today," she whispered seductively. "Mother's gone clear across the country, all week, to consult the forbidden archives at the MiskaToonic University or some junk. It's just us - you and me, and You and Me."**

** The mallard winced as his astral form was dragged out of his body into the embrace of Shirley's astral shape, and the two left in a direction exceedingly difficult to storyboard without the use of higher dimensional inks. "I swear I'll never get used to that!"**

* * *

><p><strong>"Now, Plucky, what were you coming to talk about?" An hour later, the two waterfowl were sharing a beanbag and a pot of herbal tea in Shirley's inner sanctum. "I predict Babs and Mary are like dropping by this evening fer sure - tomorrow we're going to the Acme Giga-Mall to look at dresses for Babs. White, expensive dresses." Shirley's eyes misted over slightly.<strong>

** "Babs, check. Mary, check. Has anyone seen Fifi lately? I haven't." Plucky's voice was more serious than usual.**

** Shirley considered. "She was in study hall Monday morning getting some books - I don't, like, see everyone every day now." Since returning from Spring Break the final-year Looniversity scholars had blank class timetables - generally with the word STUDY written over them in large letters as a reminder.**

** "I've not seen her in two weeks. Not a scent of her on the breeze. We should go over and check. I hope she's just, "studying" with Rhubella." Plucky's eyes crossed slightly at that thought. "As long as she's all right."**

** Shirley stroked his tail-feathers, the twinned rose quartz crystal she wore in place of an engagement ring catching the evening sunlight streaming in through the attic window. "Plucky? You know, your ego's astrally tied to your aura. When they're both off elsewhere - the duck that's left behind, is the Plucky Duck I like." She smiled, raising an eyebrow. "My aura's bringing him back from the third plane of existence in ten minutes, just before I prophesy Babs and Mary get here. But until then..."**

** In the incense-scented room the sound of beaks clicking in a kiss was not loud, but it went on for a very long time.**

* * *

><p><strong>"And it's Babs! The one and only Miss Babs Bunny - no longer Ms because I'm going to be a Mrs!" A blur of pink and white energy swept up the stairs as Babs kept her appointment to the second.<strong>

** At the door behind her a powerfully-built but pretty African-American toon sighed wearily. "Shirley - she's been like that all the way over. It was like trying to ride herd on a lightning bolt. Can't you... earth her charge to a water pipe or something?"**

** Shirley gave a snort of amusement, but shook her head. "I'm mondo forbidden from tampering with natural disasters," she explained. "Balance of Nature, you know? I can't stop earthquakes, volcanoes, typhoons or bunnies in love."**

** "Pity." Mary Melody took the stairs one at a time, not in bounds of five like a certain bunny. "We passed Plucky on the way - he'd been here?"**

** "Oh, fer sure," Shirley ushered her friends into her jasmine-scented sanctum. "Sometimes I think his next incarnation won't be some diseased rutabaga after all. Then he does something totally stupid and I change my mind. But not for long."**

** Babs was standing posed as an angelic statue, the evening sunlight illuminating her face in a wash of gold.**

** Mary cast her a glance, and smiled. "Don't worry, Shirley, we've been studying all day. She's been spin-changing till it triggered national tornado alerts. We've rehearsed comic and straight gags all afternoon. She even changed species so I could work on "Hound-teasing tricks" for Professor Leghorn's exam papers."**

** "And the wonderful and talented MISS Babs Bunny has MISSed no chance to put her skills to every test - so her MISSion to get top marks won't..."**

** "Like, flunk, as in miss?" Shirley grinned. All three snickered. Suddenly the loon's expression became serious. "Have you heard from Fifi? I've not. Plucky hasn't. We're like, worried."**

** Babs considered. "We worked together a whole week on gag duos just after Spring Break. But that's three weeks ago now. I've hardly been anywhere, not even twice to Weenie-Burger. I've not met a lot of the class at all."**

** "Me neither," Mary admitted. "I'm studying at home, or with Jaggi."**

** Babs grinned mischievously. "Squash and stretch, Toon basics for you. For him - still not taught him everything he needs to know?"**

** "Everything improves with practice," Mary said with mock dignity. "I may not be in the market for a white wedding dress - but there are compensations."**

** "And I'm sure he compensates you as in major-scale," Shirley steered the discussion back on track. "But like, Fifi? You've not seen her either? We should go and like totally check up."**

** "You're right." Babs blushed. It was rare to see the pink bunny looking embarrassed. "Being busy is no excuse."**

** "I hadn't wanted to disturb her. She's studying, and then there's her and Rhubella." Mary blinked. "At least - I assumed."**

** "Tomorrow!" Babs declared "Saturday morning. Before I go to the giga-mall and shop for the most beautiful pure white dress ever made - we'll go to the junkyard and shop for a white and purple skunkette!"**

* * *

><p><strong>Just at that moment, the toon in question was deep in the film vaults of Acme Looniversity, quite unaware of her friends' concern or even the passing of time. She had been there all afternoon.<strong>

** "Le sigh." Fifi sat alone in the dark, her cheek-fur propped on her hands as the sixth Pepe Le Pew film of the evening ran through the projectors. She felt her tail twitch in a reflex action at the sight of the young and handsome skunk and his dashing pursuit of lucky females - generally Penelope Pussycat. Fifi's ears went down somewhat at Miss Penelope's preoccupation with getting off-camera and preferably upwind. Some folk had no appreciation of the finer things in life.**

** "Le sigh, encore." The film finished and left Fifi in the quiet darkness, with only the dim safety lights of the screening room around her. "Zo many years I ave done ze same. But nevair ze success. Until..."**

** Fifi thought hard. Professor Le Pew's pursuit had been successful in the end – three years earlier he had married Penelope, whose fur was now willingly dyed skunk-striped. Just to really confuse anyone studying toon genetics, just changing her external pattern had proven to make far deeper changes. Starting in the Autumn, Mrs. Penelope Le Pew was going on maternity leave despite her being born a different species to her husband. How their litter would turn out remained to be seen.**

** "'Zere ees no special one for moi to pursue. Or I would 'ave chased zem forevair. Babs and Bustair, Shirley and Plucky 'zey all 'ave one of 'zeir own kind."**

** A cold chill ran down Fifi's luxuriant tail. Sitting alone in the darkness she had a revelation of a fundamental law of comedy that had never been told her in five years of Acme Looniversity classes.**

** "Naturellement, things only work when 'zey are funny. But zhere ees more to eet zan zat..." She whispered to herself in the silence. There was a real thought there, and she tried her utmost to pin it down and read its shape. Pepe Le Pew had finally caught his feline bride only to discover her willingly dyeing skunk stripes on her fur, which had been hilarious in its own right. Fifi had at last found someone willing to fall into her arms (rather than out of the nearest window to escape). Had that been the "skunk-hunk" her hormones were hard-wired to chase, that would not have been comic.**

** "Ze law of conservation of Comedy..." she whispered to herself. Professor Coyote had let slip that for years he had been chasing down that elusive law in his Summer research at the National Pie Accelerator complex under Akron, Ow-Hi-Oww where custard pies were boosted to almost the speed of light and the fundamental particles of humour studied in their collision. The hints that had emerged of the ongoing project were that comedic energy could never be created or destroyed, only transformed into another gag form.**

** Fifi's tail went rigid as she felt the implications sink in. "Eet weel not be a mattair of good luck or ze trying 'arder ... to find an 'andsome Skunk-Hunk, eet would break ze laws of ze Toon Physics. It can nevair 'appen for moi." She shivered. "Nevair. No mattair what I do." As she put her fears into words, the Fundamental Fun Principle took shape. For a few seconds she buried her face in her hands.**

** Then she smiled. "I weel 'ave ze last laugh, regardless. I 'ave ze compensation - ze tender lover for Fifi, even if she does not study ze comedy!"**

* * *

><p><strong>Several miles away, an imposing building reared menacingly to challenge the normally stormy skies around its spires and high walls. Had anyone asked an Acme Loo student why Perfecto Prep was usually lashed by horror film styled special effects as weather, they would probably just shrug and suggest "It's a Toon thing." This might have made more sense if Perfecto studied toon gags and special effects, which it did not. Some days it saw its fair share of drama, but nobody scored points for that in class.<strong>

** "Rhubella, please … it's been a month. I've said I'm sorry - won't you take me back?" In one of the senior class rooms an expensively dressed rat was currently wearing out his knee fur against the genuine Persian carpet. Not Iranian, naturally.**

** "Oh, ignore him, Rhubella," came a voice from the doorway. "It's easy. I generally do."**

** Rhubella Rat smiled as she beckoned to her friend. "Margot! Roderick's practicing his new favourite position." She gestured to the kneeling rat.**

** "So I see. Is it your favourite view? He doesn't really harmonise with that carpet. One of them ought to go." Margot Mallard was dressed in the top part of a precisely tailored business skirt-suit (sans skirt) commissioned from the finest tailor in Connecticut. Nowhere in Acme Acres remotely met her standards.**

** Rhubella sniffed disdainfully. "Get up, Roderick. Or stay there, I don't care. You can go hang by your ears from a washing-line, the answer will still be no. We're through."**

** "Roderick and Rhubella Rat… no relations." Margot smirked. "Has a certain ring to it. Which is something I'm sure Roddy-kins won't be giving you."**

** "Not from him." Rhubella felt her heart leap within her. "But I have hopes - I'll soon be wearing one from someone I care about."**

** "It was just one holiday with Margot - and that wasn't my idea - it was in the luck of the cards," Roderick pleaded. "Besides, we didn't … do anything. Be fair."**

** Both female toons snorted. "Sorry Roddy, but I tell her - everything. All the details. Bad and - indifferent," Margot hissed. "It's not just safari you're lousy at, laser sights or no."**

** Rhubella turned her gaze on the kneeling rat. "Be fair? That's like saying you're not really a crook if you don't rob banks every day. Go jump in the Dip pool, Roderick. I said we're through. I've found someone better." **

** A dejected rat slunk out, leaving Margot and Rhubella in the elegantly furnished room. Rhubella sighed, relaxing on the designer sofa.**

** "Roddy's a pest - and that's me, a rat saying it. I'm worn out enough with studying. It's all I do any more."**

** "An investment that pays big dividends, though" Margot preened her feathers and sat next to her. "You do know, Danforth and Roderick are spending half their time trying to crack your master plan?"**

** A mischievous smile came to Rhubella's narrow muzzle. "I know. I also know "someone" stole nine hours processing on the Sandia Labs' supercomputers last week on that job and I'm inclined to tip them off who it was."**

** Margot raised an eyebrow. "But seriously - you didn't mind me taking your place with him on that Spring Break safari in the Galapagos Islands?"**

** Rhubella cast the mallard a curious gaze. "I found someone better because I missed that trip. As for Roddy - if you managed to have fun, I'm glad for you. If he was partying with another girl, me and him are through no matter who it was. What about you and Danforth?"**

** Margot contemplated her already impeccable finger-feathers. "Danny-boy is impossibly jealous, and that's just the way I like to see him. You cut him down to size very neatly, pretending to fall in love with that Acme Loo-ser! And a girl too! You couldn't have pushed Danny-boy's buttons any better if I'd sold you his owner's manual." She laughed.**

** Rhubella did not laugh. She had told Margot the plain truth about her and Fifi - if her friend refused to believe it that was up to her. It was the same with her "master plan" to get to the top of the class - everyone else was falling over each others' conspiracies and triple-crosses as the senior year cheated and backstabbed their way towards graduation.**

** She had not meant to fall in love. Rhubella knew it was changing her from the insides out; fortunately she could still behave like a case-hardened Perfecto Senior with her classmates and hopefully for long enough to graduate. Unlike them she was rising through the grades quietly, like a bubble rising from the depths rather than a crayfish snapping and trampling its way towards the top of a heap. She had dropped enigmatic hints of her own sinister plan, and the fact that nobody had discovered a scrap of it so far had focussed their efforts to find it. In the meantime she had spent her time working and studying. All her time.**

** Rhubella blushed. "Tomorrow - I've got to go into Acme Acres. And not by limo. Something less conspicuous."**

** Margot winked, and tapped the side of her beak. "Say no more! I can spot intrigue dug in behind a bush, a thousand yards down-range through a fog bank. So, your big plan moves along?"**

** "Oh yes," Rhubella nodded, her eyes wide. "I hope it does!"**

* * *

><p><strong>Fifi LaFume awoke that Saturday morning as usual, alone on the back seat of the rusting Cadillac. She sighed, stroking the worn Naugahyde seat cover. "Zo many nights, vous et moi…" She shrugged, smiling. The ageing car had sheltered her all her days at Acme Looniversity, but in a matter of weeks she would be saying farewell to both.<strong>

** Suddenly a noise from outside had her ears pricking up; someone was approaching through the scrap-yard. She glanced down in a reflex, checking the truck tyre iron was within reach before she wound the window down.**

** "Ruby!" Her tail twitched at the sight of the rodent girl; she had the door open and her arms around Rhubella in four film frames. "You 'ave come back to moi!" Her scent began to build visibly.**

** "Oof!" Rhubella felt her breath squeezed from her body." I missed you too. I wanted so much to see you – but I've been studying non-stop."**

** "Moi aussi. But – eet iz ze weekend, time for ze relaxation, non?" Fifi's luxurious tail enwrapped Rhubella, pulling her close on the seat still warm from her night's rest.**

** "You really are pleased to see me. I just couldn't get away from Perfecto." Rhubella's tail swished on the smooth seat.**

** "Zat place." Fifi's ears went down. "Ze only surprise is you 'ave not, 'ow you say, bumped each other off by now."**

** "Well, there WAS that incident last year with the tactical Dip warhead someone smuggled in from Eastern Europe..." Rhubella recalled.**

** The skunkette shivered. "One month more and you will be free of all zat. Aftair - 'ave you ze plans?"**

** Rhubella smiled. She relaxed on the warm back seat, enjoying the feel of Fifi's tail wrapped around her. "Nothing that doesn't involve you." She kissed the purple and white girl lovingly.**

** Fifi gave an almost feline purr, leaning happily into the kiss. Her scent increased.**

** Just at that moment came a hail from outside. "Fifi? Anybunny home?"**

** Fifi glanced at the wing mirrors; she had glued on extra mirrors from other abandoned cars to cover all directions. "Eh! Eet eez like ze Acme Acres busses - ze wait for ages then three come togethair. I'ave been alone four days and now Babs and ze gang zey come to visit?" She gave Rhubella a quick smooch and opened the door. "Babs! Shirley! Mary! Ze instant party, non?"**

** Babs grinned at the sight of the pair on the back seat, and the visible cloud of skunkette scent hanging in the air. "You should have one of those redneck bumper stickers, Feef – "**_**If this car's a'rockin, don't come a knockin**_**". It's your birthday next week, I know - shall I get you one?"**

** Fifi blushed. "You 'ave come to join ze party?"**

** "Naah - we wouldn't all fit on that seat." Babs cocked her head critically. "We're on the way to the Acme Giga-Mall; want to come along?"**

** "Mais oui! I 'ave been putting ze nose to ze grindstone all ze week and living on ze dry textbooks. A leetle time to digest all zat learning will be fine. Eh, Ruby?"**

** Rhubella smiled. "Hanging out at a mall with the Acme crowd? At Perfecto they'd say that's SO beneath my dignity. With Fifi though - oh, yes!"**

**Twenty minutes later the five toons stepped off the bus at the Acme Acres Giga-Mall. **

** "I feel mondo greed vibes ... crass commercialisation totally running wild. Ewwww..." Shirley muttered, flicking her wing-fingers as if to throw mud off them.**

** "Sorry. That's from me." Babs grinned. "There's a perfect dress in there somewhere and I want it! Greedy for that? Guilty, guilty, guilty! Wonderful bridal dress, you won't escape Babs the Huntress!" She spin-changed to an Indiana Jones outdoor outfit, except instead of a whip she had a string of charge cards she snapped.**

** "Are you not in ... ze market, Shirley?" Fifi raised an eyebrow.**

** The loon sniffed." Well, fer sure, I could. Me and Plucky, we're getting major scale in-tune, even harmonious, sometimes. But I'm not like totally sold on the big retro "Promise to love, cherish and obey". So mondo heavy on the "obey". A spiritual blank cheque like that is so last-century."**

** As they walked into the great air-conditioned palace of purchasing, Mary Melody looked up at the distant roof. "I'm planning a long engagement myself, with Jaggi. If it's five years - we're both all right with that."**

** Just then the lift arrived and the five friends stepped in. Babs' eyes were wide as she read the directory screen. "Fifth floor - there's that new oriental bridal boutique, "Wedding peach." I've heard about that place." She could have spin-changed into any outfit she could imagine, but this was different. "It's just the place for me. When you think about it, I suppose I am peach-coloured ..."**

**Fortunately, the Japanese anime bridal wear franchise was quite used to toons with demanding tastes who insisted on trying out every style in the place.**

** "Eet ees a good thing Bustair is not 'ere," Fifi commented as Babs vanished into the changing-room for the twenty-third time.**

** "Why? Because it's bad luck for him to see the dress before the big day?" Rhubella was staring dreamily at row of display models - the "tail outside the dress" look was definitely back in, she noted with relief.**

** "Not only 'zat - by now 'e would be so dazed zat Babs she could appear in ze 1977 retro punk polythene bag dress and Bustair would nod 'is 'ead eef Babs asked if 'e liked it!" **

** Rhubella swished her naked tail, and smiled. Suddenly she took a deep breath. "Fifi. What colour would a purple and white skunkette bride look best in?"**

** Fifi's eyes went wide in a Wild Take that would have won bonus points in the Looniversity exams. She looked deep into Rhubella's eyes, feeling her heart pounding. "Ees zis ... a proposal?"**

** Rhubella kissed her broad pink nose. "Yes, Fifi. I don't care which of us wears the dress - or both. Fifi LaFume, will you marry me?"**

** "YES!" Fifi flung herself into Rhubella's arms and hugged with a force that Elmyra would have envied. "Oh, oui, oui, oui!" Toon heart shapes rose from the couple like bubbles from a bubble machine.**

** "Whoa!" Babs stepped out of the changing room, now back in her usual lilac skirt and yellow top. Her ears went right up at the sight. "Did I ... miss something?"**

** "It's a totally harmonious meeting of minds - and the rest." Shirley nodded approvingly. "So, are you going to like name the big day? If you want, I can check when the stars are favourable."**

** Rhubella blinked, still held tight in Fifi's arms. "After we graduate," she gasped, struggling for breath. "Apart from that - we'll let you know."**

** Mary clapped her hands together delightedly. "Another July wedding maybe? While everyone's still here? That'd be so great."**

** Babs grinned. "If you make it a week or so after Buster and me - we'd love to be there. Before that - we'll be on our Bunnymoon. With "Do Not Disturb" signs on the door. Big, glow-in-the dark signs."**

** "We'll let you know." Rhubella kissed her skunkette again. Suddenly her ears went up. "It's a good thing we're at the Giga-Mall already... is there a good place here for engagement rings?"**

**Lunchtime saw Babs having made a "definite maybe" decision on a white lace and taffeta bridal gown with a veil held up on an almost medieval styled wimple to clear her long ears.**

** "I can't believe you two chose rings in forty minutes flat!" Babs forgot her carrot salad for a minute to stare blissfully at the matching plain silver engagement rings Fifi and Rhubella wore as they walked paw in paw towards the food court. "Everyone will think it's a shotgun wedding!"**

** Fifi giggled. "Less is more, as zey say. Eet is ze partnair who counts more than ze whole Acme Bridal wear catalogue."**

** Rhubella pressed her coffee-bean nose to Fifi's broad pink one. She squeezed the purple furred paw in her own brown-furred hand. "A shotgun wedding? That sounds all right to me. Which one of us has the, umm, little surprise on the way ... and how do we manage it?"**

** "We weel try," Fifi said firmly. "We are Toons, Ruby - ze impossible eet ees just a script-change away."**

** "Oh yes, like Sweety and that Jurassic Park velociraptor she's dating." Babs imitated the pink canary's voice to perfection. "Poor little innocent birdie ... gonna be dragged off to his nest and get an egg the size of a watermelon off him!" She gave Sweety's trademarked wicked chuckle.**

** Mary Melody applauded. "I know she's a Toon but she's not the size of a watermelon herself. That's going to be ... difficult..."**

** "At Acme Loo the difficult we do at once, the impossible we just have to rehearse for," Babs grinned, her ears right up." And that pair are in full dress-rehearsals. Or is it undress rehearsals?" She pondered briefly. "Not that they wear much to start with ..."**

** "Encouraging, non?" Fifi relaxed at the table, Rhubella reaching back to smooth her huge striped tail through the seat's tail hole. "Out "dorm-mothair" Penelope LePew, she eez ze pussycat by birth – but aftair ze fur dyeing she and Professor Pepe weel 'ave ze family. I am, 'ow you say, jealous." She squeezed Rhubella's hand.**

** Rhubella smiled back, ordering an extra-large chocolate malt and two straws. "I can't do much about my tail. But … your teacher's not the only one who could dye a white stripe down her back."**

** "Mon Dieu…" Fifi's eyes went wide as she imagined the sight. "For moi – you would do zat?"**

** "You'd look like a long-tailed chipmunk," Shirley commented. "But if it gets your charkas energised … go for it!"**

** Babs looked on as Acme Acres' newest engaged couple shared their malt with a straw apiece, noses almost touching as they gazed into each others' eyes. She sighed wistfully." You know, what with Sweetie and Mr. Retro Scaly, I'm the only girl in class still shopping for a white dress." Her cotton-tail twitched. "Hmm. White's nice. But yellow would look good too …"**

** "You're forgetting Elmyra…" Mary Melody pointed out. This was not amazing. Most people usually tried to forget the red-wigged terror.**

** A general shudder swept across the room as if a cold wind had frozen the food court.**

** "Please…" Babs' ears went right down "not when I'm eating! There's an idea that'd put me right off my carrot cheesecake."**

** Mary raised an eyebrow. "I'm just saying. There's only two male toons in Acme forest she's never caught in her traps – Mean Gene Wolverine and the Big Bad Wolf… they have been known to play to lose. If she ever hauls them back to play house with … she might get more than she bargained for."**

** Babs' eyes crossed. "You know…" she said slowly "that's not the worst idea I ever heard. It'd serve her right. Binky Bunny's dating the wolverine right now … she can have a battle of wits over him with Elmyra."**

** "Zat should be ze short battle," Fifi observed. "With zo leetle ammunition on both sides."**

** Babs' ears went right down like wilted pink leaves. "But that'd really make me the last in the white-dress market. I'll go down in history as the slowest bunny on record! A disgrace to bunnydom! Woe is me!" She struck a tragic pose.**

** "Elmyra. She's the red-headed human toon?" Rhubella had heard tales of the Terror of Acme Acres even at Perfecto.**

** Mary Melody winced. "It's a wig. It's a genetic thing – she's really got as much hair as Sweety's dinosaur date. Even her eyebrows are painted on. We share a changing-room with her for the basketball team, we know."**

** Just then, Fifi's nose twitched at a scent she was hard-wired to respond to. Over by the tills, two tall and handsome male skunks were buying lunch. By their accents they seemed to be French-Canadian.**

** Rhubella followed her gaze. She smiled. "Invite them over, Fifi?"**

** Fifi La Fume looked at Rhubella and down at her engagement ring. "Non … surely not…" She whispered, her eyes wide.**

** "This sort of thing is going to happen, sooner or later." Rhubella looked into Fifi's eyes. "I'll have to learn to deal with it. Say what you like about Perfecto, they teach us to be realists." She cleared a space free of shopping bags; the food court was crowded and the newcomers were looking for a place to sit. Rhubella caught their attention and patted the seat invitingly.**

** "Eh, Mesdames – may we?" The taller of the two looked at the cleared space.**

** Babs, Mary and Shirley held their breaths, and not because of skunk scent. Fifi nodded graciously, her heart pounding. "Mais oui. Certainment."**

** They sat, and there followed a rapid-fire exchange in French for a minute,**

** "They're René and his younger brother Jacques, from Quebec, they're new in town and here for a summer working as team coaches at the Acme Bowl," Rhubella translated. "Fifi's the first skunkette under the age of forty they've seen in town since they got here last week."**

** "You speak French?" Babs asked, impressed.**

** Rhubella raised an eyebrow. "They do teach us a few things besides etiquette at Perfecto, you know."**

** Babs looked on, her ears up. Both René and Jacques were fine examples of young toon adults, maybe a year or two older than Fifi – and like her they were comfortable "in the fur", wearing only working caps and sports wristwatches.**

** Suddenly René smiled and broke off his conversation in French. "Alors – but it is zo rude of us, to talk zo when you do not all 'ave ze language! I was saying – I see Mademoiselle Fifi she wears ze engagement ring – eet must be ze luckiest toon in ze world who she 'as chosen."**

** Rhubella almost glowed. "Thank you. We know that toon. I'll pass along your complements."**

** "Ah! 'Ad we only arrived sooner." Jacques sighed wistfully. "Ze bad luck for us. Are zhere any more at 'ome like you?"**

** Fifi smiled. "In Toulouse, oui. But I am ze only LaFume femme in Acme Acres."**

** They talked for another half hour, before Jacques and René had to leave with many a backward glance at Fifi.**

** Rhubella looked at Shirley, her tail twitching. "I'm much mistaken if you weren't probing them like an X-ray machine – right down to their construction lines. What did you get?"**

** Shirley gave an embarrassed grin. "Fifi – you remember Johnny Pew? All the good looks and all the smooth moves in the book – but one mass of way toxic ego. Makes Plucky look like a Zen master, fer sure. He'd have used you like a doormat then left you behind without a thought."**

** "Le sigh. Zey were two more like zat? And zey looked so nice." Fifi's tail drooped like a wet rag.**

** "Umm… I've like got to tell you the truth, 'kay? Or my Aura would totally never forgive me." Shirley took a deep breath. "They were two genuine nice guys – their auras were as clear as crystal. Johnny Pew's was mud."**

** Fifi felt her heart pounding in her luxuriously furred chest. "Ze kind I 'ave been waiting years to find. And zey chose today to show up?"**

** It was Rhubella's turn to sigh. "This may not be the shortest engagement in history, but it feels like it." She looked at her ring sadly. "It's a good thing I kept the receipts for these."**

** Fifi gave a strange, animal-like whine like a whipped puppy as she looked at Rhubella. "Ruby! When I said I wanted to marry you – eet is ze truth!"**

** "After you'd had five years of chasing any male with an accidental back stripe," Rhubella's voice was level as she looked at Fifi. "Do you think those two would run away screaming?" She squeezed her skunkette's paw. "I'm glad you're getting the appreciation you deserve. Better late than never."**

** Fifi gulped. She turned to the loon. "Shirley – just because I 'ave promised my life and soul to anothair … is zees going to 'appen to me all ze time now?"**

** Shirley winced, taking a quick peek into the probability flows of the futures where a large number of skunk-type life lines were heading for near misses with her friend like asteroid tracks crossing Earth orbit. "Like, totally probably."**

**End Chapter One**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Deep in Acme forest, far from the laid-out tourist trails and picnic grounds, the woods grew dense and untended with only the faint animal tracks that were invisible from two paces away. High bluffs rose above unmapped swamps and rivers that began high on Mount Acme, starting off wild and untamed before they ever saw a farm or boating lake on the way to Acme Acres.**

** Neatly blended in the bushes, a shadow moved. A figure was silhouetted for a fraction of a second, but it was not a normal toon shape - more like a walking bush, that blended again with the vegetation as soon as it stopped moving. Hidden from the direct sunshine by a mottled rubber hood, a large lens did not flash revealingly and give the position away.**

_**It's the last place I've looked - somewhere there must be cute animals still **_**… a thought of simple, clear precision could have been read by Shirley or any other psychic within a hundred yards, after which any such psychic would instantly be using their teleport or their escape and evasion skills. The mind that broadcast it was as strong in its own way as a chunk of granite and usually had about as much processing power. Elmyra Duff had changed in some respects in the past few years; she was taller and had grown in all the expected ways. Physically, that is. A career of hunting down desperate animals for pets across the wilds of Acme Acres had burned off most of her puppy-fat, but in many ways she was much the same as ever.**

_**Goodness … I have to work so very hard these days**_**. Elmyra's thought was tinged in sadness; she had discarded her black Oxford shoes and adopted spiked running shoes to help her pursuit of pets to hug, and after a year of trying Professor Fudd's style of traditional hunting costume she had moved on to wearing ACME military surplus. It was amazing what you could buy in terms of sniper chic these days. She suppressed a giggle; that distinctive sound could clear twenty acres of animals in ten seconds flat, as she knew to her cost.**

** Suddenly one of the vibration sensors hidden along the trail triggered, displaying as a flashing light on the huntress's heads-up screen. A few seconds later it faded then the next one awoke - something was certainly heading her direction. She hoped it was not one of those icky things that sometimes strayed out of the H.P. Lovecraft National Forest, on the other side of the mountains. Fuzzy and cuddly was the thing for her, not eldritch and slimy. That Japanese Anime girl who had been in class one year as an exchange student had been quite horrified at her preferences.**

** Elmyra held her breath as she saw her prey. **_**A bunny! A fuzzy-wuzzy!**_** She triggered the camera and grinned, trying to work out what sort of trap would work best and where to place it … experience was a dear teacher, but she would have no other. **

** The rabbit who ran down the trail in a jogging-suit was not Buster or Babs; she was tall, shapely and purple-furred, with a blonde spiral twist of head-fur that looked oddly like a vanilla ice-cream whirl planted on top of her head. She panted, eyes wide as the old trail ended in a dead-end at the entrance to a caved-in mine.**

_**My goodness … two bunnies arriving now? Bigger bunnies maybe?**_** Elmyra looked at her display again as the sensors triggered again on the trail, and with a far stronger signal. If there was anything better than a fuzzy bunny it was a crowd of them. Her eyes turned heart-shaped, imagining a whole warren of them to hug and pet and dress up.**

** With a ferocious growl, something that was not remotely lepine charged into the clearing. It was broad-shouldered and shaggy furred, as big as a bear but with a head that was more weasel-like than canine. A broad pair of lighter yellow-brown stripes ran down its back. As it caught sight of the rabbit, a low rumbling growl emerged and the hulking predator began to drool.**

** Elmyra's painted-on eyebrows rose. **_**It'd be such a shame if the poor fuzzy bunny got eaten … but that's Nature's way. Poo. What's bad news for the cute seal-cub is breakfast for the cute polar-bear cub, after all**_**. Her television at home was permanently tuned to the Nature channels, and she recognised a wolverine when she saw one.**

** The purple-furred bunny shrank back, cowering back against the slavering predator as her cotton-tail pressed against the unyielding rock wall. She looked up, eyes wide at the muscular carnivore, her heart visibly pounding … and suddenly kissed him on the nose.**

** "That was, like, a great chase workout, Gene," Binky Bunny nuzzled the wolverine. "Ten miles a day keeps me looking peachy keen." She stretched, flexing her muscles and her eyes flashed. "Just you wait till you drag me off to our lair … I've got a special workout of my own just as good in mind, 'kay?" She whispered in the wolverine's ears … and in a fine Wild Take steam emerged from them like a train whistle.**

** Elmyra sat back, stunned, her cameras recording faithfully as Binky jumped up to sit on Gene Wolverine's shoulders and they headed back into the deep woods, Binky's hands holding tight to the predator's shaggy fur and her rump wriggling. With a crashing of disturbed vegetation they vanished back up the trail.**

** Elmyra sat alone in the forest for an hour, not consciously imitating a bush as her mind played and re-played what she had seen like a skipping CD. Unfamiliar feelings began to build in her. Suddenly, something happened.**

** A loud special-effects crack echoed through Acme Forest for miles; the sort of crack a breaking continent would give at the birth of a new ocean. Driving along a deserted road at the forest edge, a van carrying two engineers to the Acme Acres nuclear power plant screeched to a halt. They were professionally concerned at unexpected loud noises.**

** "Sounded to me like one of those main-bore chemical valves snapping open on overload pressure." One of them ventured.**

** "Sure does. When it's finally blown after being locked shut for years. But what around here could that be?" His colleague shrugged. They looked around the peaceful forest for a few minutes, gave up and drove off. There were some mysteries that Toons were not meant to know.**

* * *

><p><strong>Although they did not buy their products cut-price from ACME, there were other toons in the neighbourhood that Saturday evening with cameras and recording equipment. In a rented room in one of the town centre office buildings, Danforth Drake was pointing a 15-cm cassegraine telescope down rather than up as most astronomers would. The drake sniffed contemptuously; the deluded Looniversity students all wanted to be stars, so it was fitting to use an astronomical instrument against them.<strong>

** "Roderick? There's no sign of anyone at the junkyard yet." Danforth had an encrypted phone back to Perfecto Prep and a data link to the camera telescope. It was galling to have to spend his valuable time on a job better suited to low-level minions or Perfecto first-years, but this was Rhubella they were dealing with. Whatever they discovered was liable to be part of her Prime Plot, something that had so far eluded their best efforts entirely. Four weeks to go and not a sniff of what it was, let alone how to tackle it! If there was anything of value involved he was not planning on sharing it with any first-years.**

** "Keep watching. She'll be back. We ought to pay some lowlife ten dollars to torch that old car. And we will, when we've worked out what's going on." Roderick's voice was clear over the phone; he was back in Perfecto, brooding.**

** "I ought to do it myself. Right now." Danforth's bruises had mostly faded after the encounter with the Acme Looniversity skunkette at Spring Break, except those on his ego. "It'd be worth it to see the look on her face when she gets back."**

** "Nix. Not till we know what the plan is. Burn the skunk out now and she could vanish to anywhere in town and we haven't time left to search every alleyway for her again." Roderick's naked tail swished. "You're just sore she beat you. A Perfecto senior, going up against an Acme Loo-ser? Should have been no contest."**

** Danforth ground his biologically hard-to-explain teeth in fury, redoubling as the sound produced a chuckle from Roderick over the phone. "She caught me by surprise, right? They just… don't know when they ought to give up."**

** Roderick snickered. "Well, you've got all night to put it right. Have fun." With that, he hung up to the sound of grinding duck teeth. **

** Danforth stared at the abandoned junkyard, on which the skunk's Cadillac sat. He knew from the dossiers that she had been there since arriving at Acme Acres, easily five years ago. That was a long time for any working scrap-yard to hang onto anything; turnover was profit and land this close to the city centre would be expensive. Idly he wondered how much rent she paid, and to whom. Suddenly an idea struck him. His beak stopped grinding and an unholy gleam came to his eyes. Turning to his laptop, six ounces of elegant and ultra-lightweight bleeding edge technology secure in its ten pound hardened steel carry-case, he began taking a hard look at the local trade directories for the past ten years and accessing lists of tax defaulting properties in Acme Acres' City Hall. Perfecto students did not waste effort with cheap slapstick when they wanted profitable payback.**

** "My stock portfolio has plenty of manufacturing already," he murmured. "Perhaps I ought to diversify - into recycling."**

* * *

><p><strong>As evening fell, Fifi and Rhubella were walking paw in paw through Acme Acres' main park enjoying the flowers and each others' company. As they crossed a bridge over an ornamental lake Fifi stopped, her lustrous purple tail waving as she held Rhubella's paw. <strong>

** "Eh, Ruby, 'zis 'as been ze 'appiest day of my life," she looked into Rhubella's eyes. "And now we must pay for eet. I will 'ave to tell my family about us - and you will tell yours, non?"**

** Rhubella's tail twitched. A holiday fling was one thing - but she could imagine her parents' reaction. "I'm going to be Mrs. Rhubella LaFume, and there's nothing they can do about it. It's legal in California and I'm old enough not to need their permission. They can't even cut me off without a cent - I get my inheritance when I turn twenty-one, and that's guaranteed whatever."**

** "Eet eez ze cast-iron guarantee?" Fifi raised an eyebrow.**

** Rhubella grinned. "Trust me, I'm from Perfecto, remember? It's not just cast iron, more like high tensile steel with diamond plating. We know lawyers. But it's going to raise a stink, all right - no offence meant."**

** "None taken," Fifi murmured. Her own scent began to increase, as she looked deep into Rhubella's eyes. "When we marry … you would take ze joint French citizenship? To be with moi?" Fifi had never applied to change her nationality, and when her student status at the Looniversity expired she would have to think hard about what to do.**

** "I will." Suddenly Rhubella's eyes gleamed. "If anyone doesn't believe I'm marrying you for love - I'll tell them it's a tax dodge. That'll shut them up. They'll believe that."**

** "You ARE from Perfecto. But not for much longer, eh?" Fifi hugged her. "And now, mon amour with ze nude tail - for us it eez back to ze Cadillac. And when I see Babs I will ask her for zat bumper-sticker she mentioned, we will need eet certainment!"**

** Still holding each other's paws, the two toons entwined tails and headed back to the abandoned junkyard.**

* * *

><p><strong>Across the park and a mile out in the leafy suburbs, Elmyra Duff had come home. She had wandered in something of a daze out of the wilderness, feeling as if a ten-tonne safe had fallen on her head. Today, everything had changed since she had seen Binky Bunny with her boyfriend and realised that somehow the idea could be applied to herself.<strong>

** It was not that Elmyra was incapable of putting two and two together - more that she had never thought to do so. An avid viewer of nature programs on the Discovery channel, she had plenty of theory on one side - and she had noticed most of her classmates pairing off, though with as much detachment as she might look up at the clouds and spot cute animal shapes; interesting to observe but nothing to do with her. **

** She reached her family home, and looked around with a sudden sense of discontent. She had refined what she had always done over the years, of course - her pets were now guarded by better than cheap ACME products but it was the same house, the same hobbies - and as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, much the same Elmyra Duff. Somehow it all felt … hollow.**

** Acting on impulse, she de-activated the security systems of her pet room and opened the door to the outside world. "We've had such fun, snugly pets." Hesitating a moment, she took the keys and unlocked the half-dozen occupied cages. There were six red-shifted blurs and the windows rattled with sonic booms as her pets took the chance to escape. She watched them go, sad as always that after her most enthusiastic care they still wanted to leave her.**

** "Silly puppy-face has a lot of catching-up to do." She raised an eyebrow at her reflection. "How does she start?" She pulled off the ACME camouflage suit, threw it in the laundry basket and put the motion sensors and head-up display helmet away in the cupboard. "Puppy-face needs advice." She thought hard, going through the list of her classmates, trying to decide which of them would be best to ask. Suddenly a brighter than usual (five-watt) bulb appeared, slightly illuminating the air above her head. "Of course! Puppy-face will go and ask her tomorrow."**

* * *

><p><strong>Sunday morning at the abandoned junkyard was usually a quiet time. But not today, Fifi reflected as she hefted the tyre iron and prepared to repel boarders. When she heard what Elmyra wanted she sat back, dumbfounded for a minute.<strong>

** "You are asking Moi, Fifi?" Fifi LaFume peeked out of the window of her Cadillac, peering through the one-inch gap at the Terror of Acme Acres. The doors were still securely locked and she held the truck tyre iron in one paw; next to her on the seat Rhubella had successfully pulled a Toon mallet out of Hammerspace for the first time. Panic fear was a great help when overcoming Perfecto inhibitions.**

** Elmyra nodded keenly. "I know you're not as nice as a real kitty. But you still get all the handsome boys. I've seen you chasing dozens!"**

** Fifi blushed furiously, as behind her Rhubella tried hard to stifle a snort of laughter. "To chase, eet eez one thing … to catch and keep - anothair. And to make zem want to chase you - something else besides. You should ask Mary Melody, Babs or Shirley. Zey 'ave what you are wanting, ze steady boyfriend."**

** Elmyra shook her head stubbornly. "They've only got one. You've chased lots. You must be better."**

** "I thought you and Mr. Maximilian were an item? To some extent?" Rhubella asked cautiously, recalling the dossiers on all the main players at Acme Looniversity. **

** Elmyra's face fell. "All Monty loves now is money. And power. To make lots more money with." Montana Max had grown from a small, ugly and mean-spirited brat to the same thing in a larger size, becoming so case-hardened that not even Elmyra's uncritical love could reach him. The prospect of him being cleaned out irrevocably by the IRS would have nobody shedding a tear.**

** Shall we help her? Fifi asked in French, having found to her delight that Rhubella was quite fluent in her language though with an accent the equivalent of the North side of the Bronx. She knew her own English was still far from perfect - but Rhubella's French, though perfectly workable, sounded far worse.**

** I think we should. Though I'm not good at … helping people yet. I need practice, I suppose. Rhubella gave a shy smile.**

** For most people I would say to them "**_**relax, just be yourself**_**" - but with Elmyra, that's the whole problem. Fifi's tail drooped. **

** If what she's got isn't what she needs or wants any more … there's a word in English for fixing that. Rhubella's chisel teeth showed in a sudden grin. Both furred toons burst out with it in the same instant.**

** "Makeover!"**

* * *

><p><strong>Fifi Lafume was no stranger to the Duff house; she had been captured one holiday and held in the cages there for weeks as a pet to the younger Elmyra, who was convinced she was just a "stinky kitty who needs a good wash." Scalding hot water, stiff floor brushes and industrial lye soap had been involved. Revenge, she reflected, was a dish best served cold. The best revenge of all was when the victim actually wanted what you were going to do to them anyway, albeit for very different reasons.<strong>

** "So." The scene was Elmyra's bathroom, the only place there was a full-length mirror. Fifi looked around, determined to enjoy her Sunday. "Certainment, we must begin at ze beginnings. What 'ave we 'ere to work weeth? Ees nothing we 'ave not already seen in ze Acme Looniversity sports showers."**

** Even her worst enemies had to admit Elmyra had some strong points, and a single-minded determination was one of them. Inside a minute Fifi and Rhubella were judging the full extent of the problem.**

** "I 'ad not expected you to take off ze wig as well - but, eet is ze blank canvas now to work with. Very blank." Fifi looked at the human toon critically. "Hmm. Nature 'as not been so generous, or so cruel either." She cast a glance at the red wig on its stand and her ears went down; that gerbil skull ornament really deserved a decent burial. Presumably the rest of the gerbil was out in that backyard boneyard with hundreds more besides.**

** "From what I hear about you spending all your spare time chasing toons and wrestling them to subdue them … it's got you quite well toned. Without spending a cent on gym memberships, either." Rhubella nodded. She winced slightly. "Still, I got teased enough in the first-year at Perfecto, and it's just my tail that's furless. I should be grateful."**

** "Ah, but some 'umans zey 'ave not ze problems. Or some furred toons, zey say "vive la difference!" No, we 'ave enough to build with 'ere. Ze question is, what is ze blueprint?" Fifi's tail waved, as she contemplated possibilities. Giving Elmyra a Red riding hood and pointing her back into the forest would not be a friendly thing to do: Red herself could cope with the wolves' attentions but that sort of popularity was not what Elmyra seemed to need.**

** Elmyra giggled. "I'm hoping it's something I can take to my Summer job. They want me chasing people down. And I even get paid for it!"**

** "I know. It's in your dossier at Perfecto." Rhubella's tail twitched. "Three teams of bounty-hunters are bidding for you already. Could we - do something inspired by that idea?" The dossier had enclosed a film clip from a few years ago of Elmyra running down a grizzly bear, squeezing it unconscious then happily dragging it back to her house to play "Teddy-bear's Picnic" with and feed with low-calorie, mineral-rich mud pies. **

** Fifi snorted. "Ze spies and ze bounty-'unters, zey try to look like anything but what zey are." She paused, thinking. "Elmyra - zhere are a dozen ways we could go. What ees it that makes you - you? Zat you want to keep." She recalled an unhappy "makeover" of her own in the second year, when she had joined Babs and Shirley in trying to upgrade to gatecrash the elegant, refined Perfecto graduate ball. It had not ended well for any of the Amazing Three. And even then, she had been light years ahead of where Elmyra now was. "Or shall we try to, throw away ze past and start from ze new beginning?"**

** "It's Sunday. The Looniversity's shut, isn't it? I know you've a props and costumes department there. It'd be handy if it was open" Rhubella contemplated "If the Mall was open we could just look around to see if anything catches her eye." Unlike Babs, Elmyra could not spin-change into new outfits.**

** Fifi's eyes lit up. She had spotted the clothing supplement to the Acme catalogue in Elmyra's bedroom; in an instant it was open in her paws. The section on hunting, shooting and fishing outfits was already creased and bookmarked, but the fashion pages quite unmarked.**

** "Ah! I knew I 'ad seen zat somewhere. Zey are 'aving ze "Sale or return" deal zis month - we can send for fifty outfits to try and only buy ze one she likes." Fifi pulled her cellphone from somewhere not clearly defined and started to dial.**

** Rhubella scratched between her ears. "Fifty? That'll take days, with delivery every time. It'd be quicker to wait till the mall opens tomorrow and …"**

** Just at that moment there was a knock on the outside door. Fifi trotted out; there was a brief conversation, a "Meep meep" sound then the echo of shock waves rattling the windows as something departed at a considerable Mach number. Fifi returned with a dress box in her paws.**

** "Eh, zat Beeper e is one with ze words," she smiled. "always ze smooth talker. And such ze flirt, no?"**

** "Ooooh…" Elmyra looked on with glee as if it was suddenly Christmas morning. "I get to play dress-up?"**

** "That's one way of looking at it." Rhubella investigated the package containing half a dozen wigs of various styles and colours. "Everyone knows you as a redhead. You're not, really. There's no reason you can't be anything else … let's start with that." She held up a long blonde wig, examining it speculatively.**

**_ We'll get sued by every real blonde on the planet if we make Elmyra one_! Fifi's tail raised in alarm. _Suddenly all the jokes will actually be true - in her case._**

**_ We have to do something. And think of all the grateful redheads around the world when she's not one any more_ Rhubella looked round at her own naked tail, feeling it droop as she wondered if there were any tail wigs in the catalogue.**

** Elmyra's eyes went wide. She had worn plenty of disguises before in her pursuit of bunnies, but it had finally trickled through to her that this was not the same thing. She had replaced her red wigs along with the rest of her outfits as they wore out over the years but always with the same model, and transferred the cute gerbil skull to the new wig as decoration. The change she was planning today could be her new real look - there would be someone else looking out of the mirror in the mornings.**

**_ We'll just be pushing the problem back one step no matter what she looks like._ Rhubella looked on critically as a blonde Elmyra posed in the mirror. _So she has some cute guy wanting to talk to her - then she opens her mouth. That giggle would be enough to put anybody off._**

**_ Too true. But, one thing at a time. Remember appearances go both ways. A toon is what she thinks she is - and that depends on what she looks like. The outside … changes the inside. Look at Mrs. Penelope LePew_! Fifi's eyes went wide.**

**_ At Perfecto last year one of the boys was made to wear a toon girl costume for a month, for a bet. He didn't know the zipper was glued shut_. Rhubella tried hard not to laugh; it had been screamingly funny amongst her and her friends at the time, though she was sure Fifi would not appreciate that kind of joke._ Those costumes have permanent effects if you wear them too long. We now have a tall new girl in the basketball team who's learned what sort of bets you should stay clear of._**

**_ This is not Perfecto. I want to help Elmyra - despite everything she did to us all._ Fifi's ears were down. For an instant she had a flash of insight that made her head spin - a toon gag was a living thing in its own right, and needed a home. The day she had stopped chasing boys, Elmyra had developed a new interest in them as if a meme had jumped from one host to the other. **

**_ So. Whatever Elmyra looks like, she's going to ruin it as soon as she opens her mouth. That's nothing new. I've heard Hello Kitty swears like a trooper in sign language. Everyone who can't read it thinks she's sweet._ Rhubella suddenly smiled, and switched to English. "Elmyra … if you change your looks enough, nobody will know who you are. We could give you something very useful for your Summer job. How about a remake as … Rymela, International Toon of Mystery?"**

**_ The mystery will last just as long as she keeps her mouth shut._ Fifi considered the idea.**

**_ You have a better idea, Fifi?_ Rhubella raised an eyebrow.**

** Fifi sighed. "Eh, let us get to work. One tres exotique International Toon of Mystery, coming up!"**

* * *

><p><strong>An hour later, Rhubella was standing outside Elmyra's house signing for the costume they had decided to keep. She smiled, looking at the delivery toon; there was someone whose final exams would only be helped by spending time on weekend jobs requiring speed and stamina. "Thank you, Beeper - for coming out at short notice. On a Sunday, too."<strong>

** "Meep meep!" Beeper nodded. His extra-compressed language held a thousand shades of nuance for those who had got used to it.**

** "Yes … I think so too." Rhubella looked around at the house; she could see the empty cages still in the basement. "Elmyra never really made a friend of anyone, but she tried so hard. Too hard."**

** "Meep beep?" The young road runner asked, head cocked to one side curiously.**

** "I know. She'll be left behind at Acme Loo with the junior classes after Fifi and the rest graduate next month. Fifi wants to do this for her while she can." She hesitated. "And the class she'll be spending next year in will be grateful if we can change her ways, I'll bet!"**

** "Meep beep!" Beeper agreed, picking up the parcel for return.**

** Rhubella laughed. "I think you're right." Her eyes turned wistful. "I hope we can leave some good behind us." She waved as the road runner honked a farewell and accelerated up the road, the supersonic flow and shockwaves raising a conical wake of dust along the roadside.**

** Just then there was a sound behind. Rhubella turned, to see an unfamiliar sight.**

** "Et voila …" Fifi stood beside the transfigured toon "we 'ave - Ms Rymela - Toon of ze Mysteries!"**

** Rhubella's eyes went wide. Elmyra's usual childish dresses had done nothing for her figure, not even in the past year or two when there was anything to show. The ACME ex-Soviet woodland camouflage overall she had worn for hunting pets had been if anything an improvement. **

** The red wig was gone, replaced by a compact platinum blonde bob, braided at the sides in almost a helmet pattern and lacking any ribbons, flowing tresses or anything likely to get caught in a chase. "Rymela" was dressed in all black, with a tight polo-neck pullover and stretch slacks that showed the unexpectedly athletic frame underneath. The knee-length boots were elegant and slimline but still had a steel lining and an aggressively good grip on most surfaces.**

** "We tried ze spandex and ze black leather – too much of ze … obvious," Fifi commented, standing back to admire her work. "We wanted ze outfit she can still get on ze bus with eef she must."**

** Rhubella's eyes widened. "I wouldn't have believed it." She looked hard at Elmyra's face – there was some confusion there but also the sort of steely determination she was infamous for using in all the wrong ways. "What do you think, Elmyra?"**

** I feel - different." Elmyra said slowly. She usually talked of herself in the third person, as "Silly puppy-face" or similar. She clapped her hand over her mouth in shock. Her eyes widened. She turned experimentally, feeling how the costume moved with her. Suddenly she blinked. "Mister K, he's coming to meet me today! I forgot! I wonder if he'll recognise me?"**

** "Mister K?" Rhubella asked, intrigued.**

** "Oh. He's the chief of one of those agencies for chasing bad people down. We're going to talk about my Summer job." Elmyra sighed. "I hope he likes the new me. He'll be here in half an hour."**

** "Ze chief of ze professional bounty 'unters ? 'E must be ze toon good at seeing through ze disguises," Fifi grinned. "We shall wait for 'im - zis should be worth ze seeing."**

**After a toast to the new Elmyra in iced lemonade, Fifi and Rhubella took up position - Fifi hiding downwind of the main gate in the shrubbery, and Rhubella into the attic where she could see the front porch through a grating without being seen. Elmyra was mowing the lawn - an unusual thing for her in its own right, adding behaviour to her physical disguise.**

** There were few pedestrians on the street, and at the sound of footsteps at the appointed time Fifi ducked into the bushes out of sight. She heard a rich, cultured European voice talking with Elmyra - and suddenly there was a pause, and the bushes were parted above her.**

** "Miss Duff does seem to like her gardening." Fifi looked up to see who had spoken - and her heart began to pound. Elmyra's visitor was a skunk male. Not just any skunk male - he was tall, broad at the shoulders and wore his musk like a regal cloak. Under his neatly groomed fur a long-healed scar could be seen on his cheek, adding an air of intrigue and danger. "She has such exquisite blooms here."**

** "Mistair K, I presume?" She stood up, brushing the leaves and twigs out of her tail.**

** The skunk clicked his heels together (a difficult trick considering he was as bare-pawed as Fifi) and bowed, taking her offered paw and kissing it formally. "Enchanted, mademoiselle. I am, indeed. Miss Duff is wise to take precautions, having friends around at such a meeting." His gaze flicked up towards the attic window. "Your friend up there can come down now." His accent was educated, aristocratic and vaguely Eastern European.**

** Elmyra giggled, but the sound was somewhat different to her usual tone. "He's good. How did you know?"**

** Mister K gave a brief flash of a smile. "The bushes are swaying in the wind - except where the charming lady was stopping them moving by just a little. The young lady in the attic - well, that's a professional secret. When you learn it, you won't want to tell just anyone how it's done, Miss Duff."**

** Elmyra's face fell. "And you knew who I was right away. Poo. I hoped you might think I was the gardener."**

** The tall skunk flashed a smile. "The hair and fur is the first thing fugitives change, apart from their clothes. It's the last thing we look at. But it's a good first attempt. By the end of Summer, if you work with us we'll have you spin-changing into disguises that can fool any non-professional."**

** "I can't spin-change." Elmyra scuffed her shoes together. "I get giddy and fall down."**

** "We know. But you will learn. You have a bright future, Miss Duff - and fugitives have a fearful one, even if they don't yet know it." He winked. "And now - let's get out of where the satellites can see us, and then we can discuss terms."**

** Rhubella came downstairs to see Elmyra talking animatedly with the distinguished skunk, and to see Fifi's distracted gaze focussing on his lustrous, gently swaying tail. She quietly stood at Fifi's side. **

** "Handsome, isn't he?" She whispered, giving Fifi's paw a gentle squeeze. "You should ask him if he's doing anything tonight."**

** Fifi's ears and tail drooped like wet towels. "Ruby! You are ze one for me."**

** Rhubella's nose twitched. "Your musk glands have their own opinions." She smiled. "They say love is where your happiness depends on the happiness of someone else. I want you to have fun, Fifi." **

** Fifi sat heavily on the garden bench. "Every 'andsome skunk-'unk ees 'eading Fifi's way since ze hour she stopped looking! And … Ruby, should we two ever part... zen ze flood would dry up forevair, certainment." She sighed, looking down at her paws. She had toes seven percent less adorable than Babs, but they had been attracting a lot of admiration recently.**

** Rhubella sat next to her and for a few minutes they sat pressed close, not saying a word. Snatches of conversation drifted in from the house; evidently Elmyra was driving a hard bargain. **

** "She 'as picked up a few things from Montana Max," Fifi murmured "eet is all in zat furless 'ead of 'ers, somewhere. She 'as never thought to apply eet before."**

** "That's not all she's thinking of applying," Rhubella stroked Fifi's luxuriant tail. "She'll turn a few heads, the way she looks now." She winced slightly. "It's the next step where things could go so very wrong. But there's not a lot we can help her with there. If some poor boy gets hugged to a pulp… it'll be a learning experience for him. It's a good thing we're toons."**

** Just then, Elmyra and Mister K reappeared. The skunk nodded pleasantly. "Ladies. How would you like to help your friend and make some money?"**

**Half an hour later, Rhubella was wishing she had put in more work at the Perfecto gym that semester. She was running flat out, already regretting having accepted the offer of a serious game of "hide and seek" with Elmyra chasing her and Fifi across town while Mister K kept up and made notes. **

_**We should have given her heavier boots**_**, Rhubella panted to herself as she caught sight of a black-clad figure some two hundred yards behind and closing rapidly**_**. That, or a costume that'd catch and snag in bushes…. **_

** Just ahead of her, the junkyard fence that marked the finish line was in sight. Once there she was safe under the rules they had agreed, and a hundred dollars richer. Evidently Mister K put a high value on getting the best "operatives" for his team and wanted to be very sure of them before he hired. He had kept up with Elmyra almost effortlessly, hurdling obstacles like an Olympic champion and instinctively cutting every corner to close the gap.**

_**If I get the hundred dollars for this I'll have earned it …**_** Rhubella dodged down an alleyway, pulling a wheeled dustbin behind her to partly block it. The door to the junkyard was almost in sight - when a shadow fell on her. She looked up, and for an instant spotted Elmyra running along the top of the wall as sure-pawed as a mountain goat - before leaping off and flattening her to the tarmac.**

** "Silly skinny-tail mousie!" Elmyra giggled, squeezing the breath out of her. She held Rhubella in a crushing grip while Mister K came up to confirm the capture. "I've got you now."**

** The tall skunk hardly seemed to be out of breath, despite the two miles of furious street chase. "Indeed you have, Miss Duff. Both fugitives, in record time." Without seeming to move, a hundred dollar bill appeared in his paw. "This is for you, Miss Rat. A well-run race even if you did not get to the finish."**

** "Thank you." Rhubella gasped, her ribs aching as Elmyra released her. "She got Fifi as well?" For an instant she speculated on the air drag at high speed of a skunk tail the size of her fiancée's - or was that fiancé?**

** "And very efficiently too." He turned to Elmyra. "We look forward to having you with us, as soon as your classes finish."**

** Fifi appeared around the corner, her elegant fur looking dusty and dishevelled. Evidently Elmyra had tackled her hard, "Eh, M'sieu, thank you for ze money - I weel need it for ze running repairs!" She winked at Rhubella. "Ees not zo far to go, at least."**

** The four of them rounded the corner to the junkyard, Fifi looking around with a touch of sadness. It had been home for so long, and held many memories. She opened the door and hopped up onto the back seat, grabbing her fur brushes. "Eh, Ruby, you will lend ze paw?"**

** Rhubella's tail twitched, and she nodded happily. Looking around as she closed the door, she noticed Mister K glance up at the office building across the road, tense up for a second then whisper something urgently to Elmyra. Both of them vanished over the road at high speed.**

** "It must be a bounty-hunter thing," she commented as she combed the dust out of Fifi's tail. She relaxed on the back seat, gently stroking for a minute the two-tone fur that comprised half of Fifi's silhouette.**

** Suddenly a movement in the corner of her eye caught attention. There was a green blur dropping out of the skies - then with a metallic crash something like a meteor smashed into the piled debris in one corner of the junkyard.**

** "Mon Dieu!" Fifi's ears went right up. "We are under ze artillery fire? Ze Perfectos, 'zey must really 'ave ze 'atred for us!"**

** Rhubella gave a strange smile. "Funny you should say that. I recognised that green streak. He splashed down on that pile of old farm machinery in the corner. That was Danforth."**

** Fifi's jaw clenched, and she grabbed the truck tyre iron from under the seat. "Danforth? Landing zhere eez one 'arrowing experience - and now 'e will 'ave anothair!"**

** By the time they arrived, Danforth was recovering from the classic Toon "Slice and dice" of falling through a rusty harrow at high speed. His chromoplasm had reassembled like a slime mold, and he was groping around in the rust and debris for his beak when Elmyra and Mister K joined Fifi and Rhubella.**

** Mister K nodded to an open window six storeys above. "He was spying on you. Most uncultured. And unwise – to point a large calibre tube on a tripod at Toons of a certain career background. We are… sensitive to such things." He gave a brief flicker of a smile. Elmyra giggled.**

** "Danforth can fly – in theory. But he's not done it for years. Why flap your arms when you can relax in First Class, is what we used to say." Rhubella located the drake's beak, and 'accidentally' dropped it in an oily puddle before handing it back. "Whoops."**

** The drake reattached it, and glared at Rhubella, spitting and gagging at the taste in his mouth. "We'll have the last laugh. Don't think we don't know about your big plan. Having a few cut-price extras along won't fool us." He nodded contemptuously at Fifi. **

** Fifi's ears went right down, and she whispered in Elmyra's ear. **

** Elmyra nodded gratefully. She gave a giggle in her old style that would send a Tokyo-trashing monster running back in terror to the relative safety of the atomic testing range. "Ooooh! A stinky ducky! We're going to have fun with YOU at home, Mister Quacky. I've got a big new dry-cleaning machine in the basement that I've never tried on a live specimen – then when you're all clean I'll put you in the big chair and dress you up and feed you with worms and hug and cuddle you till you …"**

** Danforth screamed in terror. A second later came a loud clang and a duck-shaped hole was punched in the corrugated iron of the junkyard fence.**

** Elmyra sighed. "I lose more duckies that way." She looked around at Fifi and Rhubella. "Thank you for helping. Is there anything I can do for you?"**

** Fifi smiled. "In ze name of Toon 'umanity – yes, zhere is."**

* * *

><p><strong> An hour later saw a crowd assemble at Elmyra's house, the first time most of them had gone there willingly except on rescue missions. Fifi had phoned round and asked if anyone wanted to help dispose of the traps and cages; the new Elmyra admitted she would not be using them again.<strong>

**Shirley looked on as the wire cages were hauled out of the cellar to be left for the council scrap wagon. "It's like the end of an era," she commented, a sad note in her voice.**

** Fifi snorted. "'Zat ees an era best ovair. You were never captured by ze red-topped terror. 'Ad you evair been in zat cellar you would not be sorry to see it all go."**

** Shirley looked on speculatively as Plucky struggled up the stairs with a narrow chicken-wire cage. She winked at Fifi. "Feef? You know every now and then I have to, let Plucky use one of his ideas. Keeps the cosmic balance, or some junk. And I read what's in his mind. Not just what he's thinking, but all of it. If he was a house I'd be digging under the floorboards. All kinda stuff buried down there."**

** Fifi shivered. "You are ze brave bird, to do zat. 'Oo knows what you will find?"**

** Shirley shrugged. "Better know it than not, 'kay? There's stuff even Plucky doesn't know is in there. I'll show you."**

** The loon walked over to where Plucky was standing on the sidewalk, panting for breath as he rested for another trip. She sat on the wire mesh cage, which was a bare inch or so wider than her. Shirley wriggled her white tail-feathers, flashing Plucky a coy glance as he put another scrap cage down next to it. "Battery hen," she whispered seductively in his ear.**

** Fifi looked on, shaking her head as with a loud "Boink!" sound effect Plucky's eyes popped out like inflated airbags in a Clampett #52 Wild Take, the mallard's whole body going rigid as a statue as he keeled over. "And there is anothair bad idea. Eet ees wrong in zo many ways."**

** Shirley snickered. "Get crucial, Feef. Like I'd let something that happen for real. But I know the worst now." She cocked her head to one side, a contemplative expression on her bill.**

** "Who knows what lurks in the hearts of men, or mallards? The Loon Shadow knows." Babs spin-changed into a 1930's trench-coat, greasy fedora and skimpy face mask, looking down at the fainted fowl. "I think you short-circuited him again, Shirley." She waved her pink hand in front of Shirley's face, seeing her friend going off into another trance. "Hello? Earth to Loon, are you receiving?"**

** Shirley's expression suddenly changed; it was as if she had been having a nightmare and woken to find it was real. The colour drained from her face. "Babs…" she whispered "since I got my full powers I've been having like major scale flash-forwards - like tuning into next week's news. You can't look away. I just had one."**

**"So what horse wins next week's Acme Derby? I could use some extra folding green for my trousseau." Evidently the trench-coat came with a reporter's notebook as standard. Babs stood poised, pencil in paw and eager for the "scoop".**

** "It's not like that," Shirley shook her head. "It wasn't even on this timeline. It was like looking over the fence into the yard next door - imagine if you'd left the camp fire lit last year and burned down the state next door. And you knew it was your fault."**

** Babs' brow furrowed in thought. "This is a "**_**me and Plucky**_**" thing again, right?" She spin-changed back out of the trench-coat and hat, which was getting stiflingly hot in the late May sunshine. Besides, she was not going to be filing any reports on the only selfish deed she had ever known from Shirley, a girl voted "Miss Karmic Balance" four years in a row.**

** The Loon's feathers drooped, somehow seeming soiled - not with any actual dust but as if a spiritual smog had settled over them. "I know why Mother told me not to look into my own future and change things to profit myself. I always knew. It's a total abuse of my powers, mondo huge style. Grabbing Plucky away from Maria Mandarin at the last second when every other time-line had them getting together … I knew it was wrong but I still took him away. I just found out what was meant to happen by now, on like fifty timelines. And I can't fix it." She whispered into Babs' long pink ear.**

** Both of Babs ears went up in surprise. "Shirley you can't be serious?"**

** Shirley bit off an angry reply - looked at Babs then sighed, seeming to visibly deflate. "Me and my aura have to make some like mondo serious back payments to the Cosmic balance - or it won't be Plucky who comes back next incarnation as a diseased rutabaga."**

** Pink fur shuddered. "You can look at futures – can't you see some timeline where you can fix it?" Babs recalled the end of the Spring Break; Shirley had been about to drop her claim on the vain mallard, just before Plucky had made his own decision to stay. The difference was, Plucky could not see future paths and know how things would and should have turned out. Babs suspected Shirley had somehow forgotten to tell him. He had once pestered her to channel the spirit of Albert Einstein into his psyche before a maths test – Shirley had eventually agreed, but "somehow" forgotten to tell Plucky of how the young Einstein had been surprisingly poor at arithmetic. That had been fair enough – the shock of failing the test had put Plucky off cheating for days. But this was something else.**

** "I could show you what I saw on all those timelines next door – but you'd like never talk to me again." Shirley's feathers drooped. "Maria Mandarin didn't deserve for me to like take it all away from her – she doesn't know what she'd have had, but I do."**

** "Shirley! We're friends. Did I say it was wrong at the time? You've got psychic radar, you used it to look ahead a bit, that's what it's meant for. So show me. What can be so wrong?" She looked down at Plucky, who was beginning to regain consciousness. "Better be quick, or green and gruesome will hear."**

** Shirley winced. "Here goes. Like hold on tight Babs, this is going to be intense." She pressed her finger-feathers to Babs' pink forehead, and concentrated.**

** Babs' pupils shrank down to pencil dots, then expanded to Anime size as the visions flooded her mind. She gasped, shaking her head and stepping back after a few seconds. "That was – intense. Like watching a month's worth of fifty TV channels in one go." She paused, digesting what she had seen. Even without spin-changing, her toon metabolism washed her pink and white form briefly with sickly green tones as if she was seasick.**

** "I've wrecked two lives, and I'm not counting mine," Shirley looked her in the eyes. "And that's just the start of the avalanche."**

** It was Babs' turn to wince. She took a deep breath. "You can count on me, Shirley. I don't know how I can help stick duct tape over duck history - but whatever it takes - whatever help I can give, you've got it."**

** Fifi and Rhubella struggled out of the cellar carrying the last cage, an extra-large one. As they dropped it on the lawn next to the others, Fifi noted in surprise Beeper delivering a set of Acme Moving Wheels to Shirley and Plucky, who fixed them to one of the smaller cages and pulled it away with them.**

** "Le shiver. Zat was one I was in. Zey are not just steel - zey are cold worked iron with ze anti-magic coating, according to ze label. Zat label was ze only thing I 'ad to read for a month, I 'ave not forgotten eet." Fifi's tail drooped. Since that time dozens of captives had worn the labels off.**

** "I expect Shirley wants to pound it to scrap herself - with a very large Toon mallet," Rhubella said. "I know I would!" **

** Fifi cast her fiancé - or possibly fiancée - a smouldering look. "Eh, and I would 'elp. But now - we must say adieu, et eez ze evening and you are for Perfecto and ze early night before ze studies - and I 'ave my own, alas!"**

** Rhubella hugged her. "Three months ago if anyone had said we'd be engaged - you'd have skunk-sprayed them till their cel paint dissolved. Fifi LaFume, Miss Skunk-Hunk Interceptor Missile!"**

** "And ze Preppie Princess, ruling ze roost with zat Roderick - ze dark shadows of our Babs and Bustair," Fifi gave a delicious shiver. "You would 'ave sued zem for ze slander!"**

** "I would have, too." Rhubella gave a sly smile. "If I wasn't too helpless rolling around with laughter."**

** "Ze law of ze conservation of ze comedy," Fifi's ears drooped slightly. "Gravity, we 'ave ways of ignoring awhile, Professor Coyote 'e 'as given ze demonstrations. But ze other law - inescapable."**

** "I'm glad." Rhubella kissed the skunkette lovingly. "The day I leave Perfecto I'm getting a permanent dye back stripe like Mrs. Penelope Le Pew, and buying a big two-tone tail-wig to match. If that's inescapable comedy - I'm all for it."**

** They kissed goodnight and parted, Rhubella calling a taxi for Perfecto while Fifi walked slowly back to the scrap-yard, her head in a whirl at the day's events. She had seen a new Elmyra, one whose skills might actually do the world some good - and she had seen Shirley entertaining ideas that were as improbable as … well, as Fifi and Rhubella ever becoming a couple.**

** She unlocked the passenger door of her beloved Cadillac and slid gratefully onto the seat, her nose twitching deliciously at the traces of Rhubella's musk. Looking around, she patted the worn back seat. "Some things zey change - but othairs, I can rely on always."**

** Had Shirley then looked twelve hours into the future, she could have read that Fifi was about to spend her last ever night in her old home. But then, at the time she was very much … distracted.**

**End Chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**As the first-year Ethics classes taught at Perfecto Prep, it was not love but money that made the world go round. With enough money you could make it go round even if it started off square - just pay someone with power tools and heavy machinery to chip off those annoying corners. Still, love had its place - as Danforth Drake was appreciating at ten o'clock on a rainy Monday morning.**

**"I just love doing this!" He stood under an umbrella a liveried Perfecto "minder" held, busily taking photographs as a small army of hired wrecking and haulage vehicles blitzkrieged through the scrap-yard he had bought, "_with all debts and rights pertaining_", an hour before and the minute City Hall opened for business. He laughed wildly as a wrecking ball came down on the roof of Fifi's Cadillac, caving it in. "Everyone says we ought to recycle more - isn't that right, skunk?"**

**Fifi stood on the sidewalk with one hastily packed suitcase, sobbing as her tears blended in with the rain as she looked on helpless. If she put one paw back on the scrap-yard site Danforth and his minders would treat her as a trespasser, and there was nothing she could do about it. "Monstair! 'Ow could you do zis to moi? Zat 'as been my 'ome since ze day I came to ze Looniversity! 'Ow can you evict a toon like zis?"**

**"Oooh, I'm so very glad you just said that." Danforth smirked. "Did you hear that, Chemley?"**

**A sleek feline in a sharply tailored business suit nodded briskly. "Oh, yes, Sir! Verbal admission of residency. A great help to the case. We can evict because it is not a legally registered address under the City zoning laws, and residency laws do not apply. Miss LaFume has merely been trespassing on what is now your property." Evidently the lawyer had to carry his own umbrella, but any wear and tear would doubtless be put on the bill. "And since purchasing the site this morning you agreed to pay the City all due back taxes, your ownership becomes … retrospective." A sharp feline tooth glistened in a hard smile. Since the original owner had declared bankruptcy and the property reverted to the City six years earlier, Acme Acres' City Hall had been trying to find a buyer and had jumped at Mr. Drake's offer.**

**Fifi moaned at the sight of her beloved home being fed into the hydraulic jaws of an ACME self-propelled car crusher; the grinding could have been the sound of a warm heart breaking. The first she had known about it was when the lawyer and demolition team had shown up half an hour ago - she had not even had time to grab her belongings from the trunk of the car. **

**"Well, that about wraps that up." Danforth rubbed his finger-feathers together. "That's my good deed for the day - all this unsightly scrap metal put back into the economy. Maybe I'll sell the site to a perfume shop when I've cleaned it up. Make a nice change from skunk stench." His heart raced at the sight of Fifi walking down the street in the rain, one forlorn suitcase in her paw. "Yes! That's a picture for the album."**

**Just then his telephone rang, and he answered it as he recognised Roderick's number.**

**"Have you gone nuts?" Roderick's voice came clearly to him. "I just heard about you turfing the skunk out. We agreed, right? Not to do this till we find out where she fits in Rhubella's plan!"**

**"Keep your fur on, Roddy," Danforth smiled, glad to have thought of the answer already. Roderick was usually the one who gave the orders, but not today. "That was because we didn't want to lose track of her. We won't."**

**"Oh? You know how much private detectives cost. You're going to have them trail her for a month? Out of your own pocket, Danny-boy?" Roderick's naked tail swished audibly.**

**"I don't have to do that." Danforth nodded towards Chemley, the Perfecto class lawyer. "I bought the scrap-yard with all its debts, they're why nobody in five years wanted it. The skunk just admitted - in front of witnesses - she'd been living there all along. I'm going to have Chemley serve her a writ for back rent that'd make your eyes water. If she can't pay it … you know Chemley's toon Shtick is to bear bad news, anywhere. He once served divorce papers to a nuclear sub crewman on a secret mission under the icecap, and nobody ever saw how. He can get Fifi when we need her."**

**"Hmph. Not so shabby, after all." Roderick considered the matter. "She can't skip town, she's got to stick around to finish at Acme Loo. And if she tries to cut and run after that …"**

**"I know just where to find a bounty-hunter. Isn't it sweet when a plan comes together?" Danforth grinned, ending the call and looking out at the teeming wet streets as the sound of crushing metal and revving truck engines came as music to his ears. Nice weather for ducks, he told himself.**

* * *

><p>"<strong>Le boo-hoo! Le boo-hoo!" An hour later Fifi was sitting in Babs' kitchen; her soaked fur was swathed in hot towels and a steaming mug of carrot soup in her paw was becoming salty with her tears. "Zat duck! 'E 'as cost me my lovely 'ome!"<strong>

**Babs' pink ears were right down; Fifi's Cadillac had been a fixture of her life as much as the Looniversity's tower; it was hard to believe it was suddenly gone. And that Perfecto were cheering made it worse - pushing on plain unbearable. "Fifi? You're welcome to stay here. I've asked Mother - she says we can burrow another room by tonight." It had been some years since the Bunny family had needed to make any additions to the burrow complex, but Babs recalled it had once felt like a monthly occurrence. **

**Fifi sniffed, hugging Babs with a damp embrace. "'Zank you. You are, ze finest of friends."**

**Babs nodded absently, her caffeine-fuelled brain working fast. "Now - revenge time. I'm usually the last toon in the world to ever say "self-control". I want to go out to Perfecto right now and make some pressed Chinese style crispy duck! I want to see Dizzy Devil chow down on a roast duck dinner!" She hesitated. "But we can't. Not right now. It's Monday morning with final exams coming up, we've got to be studying - and studying hard. Or Danforth will have another laugh on us when he gets out of hospital and hears how we flunked."**

**Fifi gritted her teeth. She took a deep breath, and nodded. "Tu as raison, Babs. Nothing will bring ze Cadillac back. I saved my Acme Loo notes - eet was mostly ze clothing zat was lost in ze trunk. Zat, I can do without." She smoothed the damp ribbon in her hair, grateful that unlike Rhubella she could walk around mostly in bare fur. "Eh, and Ruby, she 'as ze same shape legs as poor Fifi. Should I need ze stylish outfit, she 'as ze wardrobes full, she 'as outfits she 'as nevair worn." A small smile came to her purple muzzle. "Eet was fun playing ze dress-up with Elmyra yesterday. Nevair did I think I would need it for myself today."**

**Babs gave a crooked grin. "I'll lend you a ribbon any time you want, Feef." **

**There came the sound of bunny burrowing from across the hallway, as Mrs. Bunny directed a working squad of Babs' siblings to the task of carving out a fresh room. This was rather different than most, having a private link to the surface - something even Babs had never had. It was needed for ventilation at least - in a burrow the scent of a skunkette would tend to linger, and Fifi suddenly had over two score close neighbours unlike in the scrap-yard.**

**Fifi gave a long sigh. Then she straightened her back, squared her shoulders and picked up the damp collection of Looniversity revision notes. "Today, ze "_Matched and unmatched comedy duos_", Babs? We 'ave ze work to do."**

**Babs agreed, happily to see Fifi throwing herself into her work. There was no time for brooding, or plotting revenge just yet. It was Perfecto that awarded points in a Dirty Tricks class, not Acme Looniversity.**

**_Still_, she filed the thought away to ferment to maturity in one corner of her overclocked Toon brain_, we'll keep a lookout. A chance will turn up, like it always does - and that duck will be laughing the other side of his beak!_**

**The rain poured down most of the day, and not till the sun broke through at evening did Babs' oldest litter of siblings (Mortimer, Katy, Jenny and Benny) make their own breakthrough to link the otherwise finished new room to the surface.**

**"Well, here it is!" Babs popped out of the new entrance, a scent of fresh paint and fast-setting tunnel shotcrete following her. It was a hundred yards from the main flower-ringed entrance shaft, and currently had a plain steel hatch that she handed Fifi the key to. All rabbit households kept spare doors stockpiled in the closet for repairs and short-notice expansions. "You can invite Rhubella over any time - just close the gas trap to seal it off from the rest of the burrow, 'kay? I know what you're like when you get - interested."**

**Fifi gave her first real smile of the day; they had been working hard for seven hours with only a short break for milk and carrot cookies. She could see herself having to get in some food stocks that were not carrot-based. "'Zank you. Eet ees zo good of you and ze family."**

**"Aww, that's what friends are for." Babs winked. "Next weekend - are you and Rhubella heading to the Giga Mall? That Wedding Peach place does good deals." She looked at the engagement ring on Fifi's purple paw.**

**Fifi blushed. "I weel 'ave to talk with Ruby about zat. We 'ave ze … questions you and Bustair do not. Which one of us wears ze tux?"**

**Babs tried valiantly to contain a snort of laughter. "As long as you get enough festive respirators for the guests who aren't skunks … it won't matter what you wear. When you kiss the bride they'd better open the windows first or you'll blow them clean out!" All her class had long experience with Fifi's enthusiastic musk glands.**

**Just then, Babs' phone rang with the sound of Tibetan temple bells. She had customised it to recognise her friends' numbers. "That's Shirley, all right!" She answered the phone, and listened for a minute. "Shirl? Come over." Babs closed the call, a curious expression on her face. "One drama after another. If only they gave us marks for these in class!"**

**In ten minutes Shirley appeared, slowly walking through the damp Summer woods rather than levitating as she usually travelled. She looked down, puzzled and frowning as if the sensation of mud on her webbed golden-brown feet was unfamiliar.**

**"Uh-ohh…" Babs whispered to Fifi. "Looks like trouble. She looks like - remember when she lost her aura, back in Spring? I wonder what happened this time?"**

**Fifi's eyes went wide, as she remembered Elmyra's clearout. "Sacre bleu! I 'ope she 'as not done something - foolish."**

**"What, Shirley? Miss Astral Harmony? The sensible one?" Babs hesitated. True, Shirley had been far from her usual self the day before. "Well, here she is - we can ask her."**

**"Like, hello Babs, Fifi. Bummer about your house, Fifi. I heard." The loon was neatly groomed as ever, but her tone seemed somewhat flat. She could usually walk through the rain without getting wet.**

**Babs recognised the signs. "Shirley? What happened to your aura? I remember you looked this way before. And you're … soaked."**

**"You 'ave broken up zat cage with ze sledgehammers, I 'ope." Fifi raised an eyebrow.**

**Shirley's eyes flashed briefly. "You knew? Sure you're not turning psychic too, Feef?"**

**A two-tone tail twitched. "I do not need zat to put ze two and two togethair."**

**Shirley shrugged. "We flattened it as flat as Danforth left your Cadillac … this morning."**

**"This morning, not last night? I think there's a "_but_" and a big "_oh-ohhh_" somewhere in here." Babs whispered to Fifi.**

**Shirley's temper flashed. "A loon can make mistakes, 'kay? And I can't blame Plucky. He didn't do anything we hadn't, like, agreed to." Her fire faded. "It was me that saw that idea buried deep in him. If I hadn't disturbed it, it might never have surfaced - just gone back to mulch. My aura's gone, but not like it did last time. It's there, it's alive - somewhere. We last saw her heading for the astral horizon, totally and massively freaked out."**

**"I've not seen you both overload that way since … that party at Perfecto in the second-year when you got the punch-bowl spilled all over you," Babs marvelled. "Heh. You certainly "brought the house down" then!" Shirley's psychic lightning display had almost flattened the building, and blacked out the electrical grid of half Acme Acres for an hour with the overload.**

**Shirley's eyes crossed slightly. "Imagine trying that - and finding out you're inside an unbreakable mirrored box. It bounces back. What sort of thing was Elmyra trying to trap with that?"**

**"You did not see ze label? Ze magic-proofed cold iron?" Despite herself, Fifi felt a chuckle building. It would have been such a perfect practical joke. "I am guessing, zat is proof against ze psychic energies as well." Plain conductive Faraday screens stopped radio but did nothing against psychic powers, although evidently there were orgone-draining materials that did.**

**"But you had a key? Surely you had a key to get out." Babs' ears went right up.**

**Shirley snorted. "Yes. And mondo use that was. Like I could turn round and reach the lock? And it's the only place I've ever been I couldn't use telekinesis on the key?" She was silent a few seconds. Then a small smile appeared on her beak. "Once in a lifetime trip, Babs. I took a good look at Plucky's system afterwards, it's out of him for good. And when I protest about totally cruel poultry farms now… I'll know fer sure what I'm talking about!"**

**Fifi let out her giggle. Her ears drooped a few seconds later. "But - your aura, she is over ze 'ills and far away?"**

**Shirley grimaced. "Like I could blame her. By now she's probably half way across the Elemental Plane of Air and still running, you know?" She drooped. "This time she might not come back."**

**"Maybe Plucky can send 'is aura out zhere to find her," Fifi's tail swished.**

**Shirley sat very still. An eyebrow slowly rose. **

**"Feef was only joking," Babs said hurriedly. "Plucky's aura? I know he's got one but it'd be like sending him to cross the Pacific with a bicycle inner tube! I mean, we've seen what happens. Pulling out his astral shape is like extracting blood from the poor boob - I mean bird. It doesn't want to go, and you don't expect it to do much on its own."**

**"I was theenking," Fifi said with dignity "of something Shirley once said. About ze giant duck ego - and zat being ze formidable powair supply. Maybe, ey, Shirley?"**

**The loon grabbed Fifi's paw like a drowning toon clutching a lifeline. "Maybe, Fifi - if my aura doesn't come back on her own... it's the best chance I've got!"**

* * *

><p><strong>As it happened, Shirley had not been the only one taking advice from friends that morning. Buster was finishing his breakfast (carrots served in many strange and sinister ways) when the doorbell that came with his ACME Government-surplus "burrow door" rang.<strong>

**"_We need the keys and authentication documents at this time. This is not a drill_." The pre-recorded voice always made him jump.**

**Buster took a peek at the entry phone. "Plucky!" He turned the keys and entered the day's security sequence; light flooded in as the reinforced steel slab yawned wide. "Come on down, Pluckster!" He put his hands to his ears as the klaxon sounded - the circuitry in the old silo door liked to be secure, and was paranoid about being vulnerably open to the air.**

**"Buster - haven't you fixed that thing yet?" Plucky cast him annoyed look. "I keep wanting to duck and cover whenever I hear it." The door shut above him with a mechanical sigh of relief.**

**Buster gave a wide grin. "Eeeh, if it's not Looniversity work or fun - right now it's not priority. And I've not had much time for fun. I hate to say it but it looks like the sun's gone down on my goofing-off days. Come over to work on our gag routines?"**

**The mallard snorted. "I've caught enough anvils for you. Anything else - since when does Mr. Popular need any rehearsal help that isn't pink and long-eared? You and Babs are like two sides of the same coin - you couldn't get out of sync any way they throw you." He mimicked the cheerleaders of the junior year Buster Bunny Club. "_Buster, Buster, what a bunny! He's so cool our brains go runny!_" Suddenly he slumped, and flopped into a handy chair. "It's Shirley."**

**Buster raised an eyebrow. "She's put another billion psychic volts through you? You knew the job was dangerous when you took it on, Pluckster."**

**Plucky cast him an annoyed glance. "I've cost Shirley her aura. Again. I keep costing her what she can't afford to lose."**

**"She got it back last time, double," Buster pointed out. "This time – triple, who knows? Anyway, she's still your girl." He paused. "Isn't she?"**

**"Yeah, yeah. She's keen on that. Though she won't wear a ring. Possessiveness is so uncool, unquote." Plucky stared at his webbed feet. "This whole thing isn't turning out like I thought it would."**

**"Life's like that, Pluckster. What did you think, Shirley's suddenly going to turn into some adoring princess looking up to her Action Hero? You know her. She knows you, down to your hollow bird bones." Privately Buster had always thought that the avian's biggest hollow bone was his skull - what he really wanted in a mate was a live-in fan club with free 24-hour ego-grooming service. Shirley McLoon was far more than that; not just a live wire, she was a chilled superconductor to the forces of the cosmos.**

**"You've got what you wanted - like always. That's your trouble, Mr. Popular! You've never known failure. You and Babs have been written in the script together from Day One." Plucky cast Buster a sour look.**

**"I should complain?" Buster queried.**

**Plucky hesitated. "No, dammit, you shouldn't. You ought to be grateful you're not dating a flaky power station."**

**"Babs is pretty much of a power station already…" Buster mused. "And flaky? Only when she's been eating carrot chips …."**

**"Oh, funny ha ha. It is to laugh." The mallard's eyes were downcast. "Imagine you cost Babs her sense of humour and timing. Everything she depends on, and you broke it." He sighed. "I'd never have believed I'd say this but - I'll never be up to her level, in the things she does. And I don't want to see her dragged down to mine."**

**"Whoa!" Buster was impressed. "As Shirley might say, mondo negatory vibes, Plucky! But honest too." His ears crossed in concentration. "You think you're not good enough for her? This is Plucky Duck saying that? Remember this - she knows exactly what you've got. And she chose you."**

**"You remember back at the beach in Spring Break? That big-shot stuffed shirt with the psychic powers, Major Trauma or whatever his name is?" Plucky's tail feathers drooped.**

**"Colonel Fenix?" Buster suggested.**

**"Yeah, that big stiff." There came a sigh. "Shirley's better off with someone like that, someone who does the same stuff as her, someone she could look up to. All the power and the glory. Snazzy uniform, too." Plucky's eyes were still on his webbed toes. "Probably has the mystical super-power of being able to eat organic tofu and like it."**

**Buster tsked, shaking his head. "Plucky, Plucky. Save the "_I wouldn't join any club that'd have me for a member"_ for Professor Bugs' wisecracks exam. If you can't trust your own judgement - "(_and let's face it,_ he thought - _nobody else ever around here ever has_) "then trust Shirley's. She needs you now, more than ever."**

**"For someone who never has any troubles you're plenty quick with the advice, mister 'unwed marriage guidance councillor'," Plucky snapped. He paused. "But it doesn't mean you're wrong, either."**

**Buster stood, and slapped his friend on the back. "Atta-duck! Now get out there and swing for the bleachers. Make Shirley proud of you."**

**Plucky nodded, squaring his shoulders as he stood up. "On my way, Buster. I just can't shake this feeling that - somehow I've gotten into the wrong script. Like things were meant to be different."**

**"Since when did we ever have script approval around here? Shoo. Shoo." Buster turned the spring-loaded keys, holding them at full lock for five seconds as his front door slid open.**

**"Shoes? Don't wear' em." Plucky quipped, a flash of his familiar grin reappearing.**

**"That's more like it." Buster nodded. "Now, git."**

**Plucky got.**

* * *

><p><strong>Over at Perfecto Prep, Rhubella was looking at the results of her weekend's labours. She had been throwing herself into her work with Star School exercises, but when she was not fishing for marks … she had left enough red herrings to distract her rivals.<strong>

**"Whoops, guess I left my laptop turned on and connected to the Net all weekend. Clumsy of me or what?" Rhubella snickered, checking the files. "Take a look at this, Margot, eighteen people have tried to get the details of my Master Plan."**

**"Which probably isn't even on that machine," Margot Mallard nodded appreciatively. "I know you. But they pulled some data off."**

**"So they think. A hundred gigs of totally encrypted data - or possibly a very big stream of random numbers. Who knows?" Rhubella checked the layers of security, the important ones being almost undetectable. "With a few significant key words scattered in the block to encourage them."**

**"Can we say, "_honey-pot trap_", toons?" Margot grinned. "They'll be spending all their efforts trying to get data that's not there. Costs you almost nothing, and costs them all their time. Just when they really can't afford to waste any. And you can get the intelligence on who's trying to get in there."**

**"Hmm." Rhubella nodded. "Roddy and Danforth have been trying hard … then, they're always trying. Very."**

**Margot raised an eyebrow. "Watch that sense of humour, Rhubella. You've been spending too much time with your hired help from Acme Loo. It's catching."**

**Rhubella flashed her a glance, noting the mallard's impeccable business suit top. "You're dressed to the nines today, Margot. Anything planned?"**

**Margot nodded, studying her impeccably groomed finger-feathers. "I have a rendezvous with a possible future associate." Graduates of Perfecto did nothing so mundane as get jobs, that was for car washers and soda jerkers. They joined with other business associates for mutually profitable ventures. "It's a new startup company. They aim to invent, patent and market an entirely new form of vice."**

**"Good luck!" Rhubella felt a sour taste growing in her mouth. Three months ago she would have been keen to get in on the profitable action. Living in Perfecto was to breathe in a constant spiritual smog bank; it was a mixed blessing that now she recognised the fact. She suppressed a shudder, imagining if this had happened to her a year earlier - keeping up the pretence would have been an unbearable strain. The school's official Latin motto was "Vae victis", or "Woe to the vanquished" – and she knew that Fifi had quite ruined her for her old life. Perversely, that was now a good feeling.**

**"So … what are you planning, for next month?" Margot looked her associate up and down keenly. "I expect you'll surprise us all yet." She had signed a notarised non-aggression pact with Rhubella in their first year, which was about as friendly as any two Perfectos ever got.**

**Rhubella took a deep breath, and put her paw on the security scanner of her laptop before switching it to 'Lie detect' mode. "I'm going to walk down the aisle with a girl from Acme Looniversity, and if I spend the rest of my life cooking meals and changing diapers for our half-breed skunk cubs, so be it." The screen flashed green for 'Truth.'**

**"Whoa!" Margot was impressed. "You've learned to fool a lie detector! Let's guess - you're going to become a high-profile Expert Witness - if you can pull that stunt reliably in public trials, you're made for life!"**

**Rhubella smiled. "That's the Perfecto way. And I've got just one month to get it perfect." Inwardly, she winced. _Only one month left. Which is just as well_…**

**Just then, Rhubella's telephone rang. She smiled, spotting Fifi's number. "Fifi!" Her heart pounded as she pressed it to her ear. A minute later her ears were right down and her smile was gone. "Danforth did WHAT? Bought the junkyard and threw you out?"**

**"I noticed he's been looking full of himself today," Margot mused, signalling to a passing servant for strong coffee. "Looks like you need this."**

**Rhubella automatically sipped the steaming brew - in accordance with Perfecto's principles it was all ethically FoulPlay coffee, extracted at gunpoint from wretched peasant communities round the world. She winced, wondering what Fifi would say about that idea. It had never occurred to her before. "You're staying with Babs? I think I know where that is. Tomorrow then, I'll be over!" She closed the call, fuming. "That duck! He's gone too far. Margot, you don't mind if I …"**

**Margot Mallard laughed, tossing her purple riot of head-feathers back. "What, take some hideous revenge on poor Danny-boy? You go right ahead. You know I'm into … survival of the fittest."**

**"And any drake someone can pluck for a pillow and spit-roast for Chinese duck pancakes, wasn't good enough for you in the first place." Rhubella nodded. "Thanks, Margot." She thought hard for a minute, her tail swishing. "There'll be an angle on this, there always is. I bet Danforth hasn't thought enough about buying that scrap-yard. I'll have to look hard."**

**Margot snickered. "Go to it! I've got to be off to meet those venture capitalists." She shook her head wonderingly, a small smile on her bill. "Intriguing idea, don't you think? Inventing a totally new vice. I wonder what it'll be like. As different to any other as catnip is to gambling."**

**"I'm sure they'll provide you with free samples." Rhubella nodded. Inwardly she felt a twinge, imagining slipping back into her old ways. One more time, she promised herself. Taking a suitable revenge on Danforth would be a Perfecto deed rather than something Fifi would think up, she knew. A naked tail twitched. _Fifi doesn't want any of that side of me_, she told herself. _Well, then. Before I walk down the aisle with her I have to … get rid of the stockpile. And I know just who should have it all_.**

* * *

><p><strong>As evening fell, Shirley made her way step by step down from her house to the wetlands outside Acme Acres. She frowned, looking at the swamp mud on her webbed feet. "Like, gross." She knew she was early, but she had been meditating and trying to find her centre for an hour before giving up in frustration. It was as pointless as trying to adjust a TV set in the middle of a power cut. "This totally lags. It'd be just my karma if the lights never came back on." Just to complete her misery, another line of heavy showers was sweeping in and this time the raindrops would hit her impeccably groomed plumage rather than be deflected by her orgone field. She had not had to trudge on foot with soaked plumage for years.<strong>

**Shirley knocked at the driftwood door of the hut Plucky called home, her beak twitching slightly at the musty odour. A house made from bundles of reeds in the damp air of a swamp would slowly decay no matter what you did, she told herself firmly. In some ways Plucky's home was more ecological than her own. "Like, anyone home?" She called out and waited a few seconds, and found the door was unlocked. Looking around for signs of a mallard approaching, she stepped inside out of the suddenly torrential rain that was thrashing the surface of the swamp. Inside, Plucky had evidently left in a hurry. Seeing what was in there, for an instant Shirley's feathers bristled in annoyance and she was about to do some vigorous tidying and binning when she stopped, and sighed. Shirley McLoon changed her mind.**

**When Plucky returned laden with groceries half an hour later, he had something of a surprise. Shirley was waiting for him - sitting on the sofa reading not a Tibetan mystical scroll but one of the magazines he subscribed to. **

**"Uh, hi, Shirley," he blinked rapidly, shaking rainwater off his feathers. "I was going to tidy up. I thought you'd be here a lot later."**

**The loon smiled, putting down the copy of "_Survival and Fighting Sporks of the world's elite forces weekly_" that he would have certainly put away out of sight. "Like hi, Plucky. The door was open, I let myself in. It's wet out there."**

**"Yeah. But hey! We're waterfowl." Plucky's eyes roved around the room - there was a lot he would have tidied away given half a minute's warning. He winced slightly at the rented DVDs lying in plain sight on top of the player; the latest volumes of "Monster Truck Deathmatch" and "Cheerleader wardrobe Malfunctions ("_Catastrophic in-flight structural failure edition!")"_ were something he could guess Shirley's opinions about. He braced himself for her reaction.**

**Shirley patted the sofa seat next to her. "Sit down, Plucky. Put your wing around me." As a pleased and surprised mallard obeyed, she opened the magazine to where a toon in the uniform of the Bolivian Submariner Marines was demonstrating the effectiveness of his Mk. 19 bis boarding spork against reactive armour. "This stuff isn't like totally new to me. In one of my past lives I was a trooper in Genghis Khan's hordes, you know? Cost me a lot of karma." She paused, casting him a glance. "I know you care about this stuff. When I could read your mind I saw what you feel about all this… but I don't know why. Talk me through it." A hint of a mischievous smile flickered on the corner of her bill. "Then I'd like you to play me some of those DVDs or some junk?"**

**As the moon rose on the swamp a few hours later, any late passers-by might have seen a pair of waterfowl paddling out through the mud and reed beds towards the deeper, more secluded islands far from any prying eyes. One was pale and one was darker, though colours were washed out in the moonlight and it was hard to be sure. Besides, it was a private waterfowl thing.**

* * *

><p><strong>Fifi awoke the next morning, and for a second had a quick flash of panic at the darkness around her. Even in the darkest night in her Cadillac there had been the street lights shining from over the junkyard fence. She spotted the pale glow of the alarm clock, and relaxed. A rabbit's burrow complex with the lights out was about as dark as it got.<strong>

**"'Allo, my new 'ome. For ze while." She yawned, stretched and her exploring paw found the light switch. Her room was more spacious than her Cadillac back seat - at least she could stand and wave her tail without it pressing the ceiling. She looked around - there were alcoves for storing clothes and such (her eyes flicked over to her one surviving ribbon hanging lonely and forlorn on the rack) but it looked as if she had to share a bathroom with the rest of the Bunny siblings. Only Babs' parents had a private one all their own. Taking a deep breath, she opened the airlock doors that sealed off her new private room - and gasped at the sight outside.**

**Babs' burrow in the mornings was like a cross between a mad pinball game and an underground station at rush hour, with dozens of school-age bunnies of all colours (evidently the chromoplasm of a rabbit was far less fixed than that of a skunk) yelling and squabbling in all directions as they bounced off the walls and floor grabbing satchels, books, clothes and carrot-based lunches. Fifi blinked, taken aback by the noise and sudden whirl of chaotic action. She spotted a bunny emerging from a door down the corridor with towel and toothbrush in paw and immediately bounce away down the corridor like a power-ball down a drainpipe. **

**"Sacre Bleu! Eet eez like ze Paris Metro in 'ere." Fifi dodged the fast-moving lapin traffic and ducked into the bathroom, which she gratefully spotted had half a dozen shower stalls. **

**In three seconds she stopped, noting two things. Though the shelves were piled with each junior Bunny's soaps and fur grooming kit, they were all clearly named. None of the names was female. But that was of little consequence; Babs' family were all the kind of rabbit toon who could "conceal" and could walk around Acme Acres with as much fur - and nothing else - showing as Professor Bugs. Suddenly Fifi's nose twitched at an unexpected scent, definitely not that of a rabbit buck - and then every strand of fur stood on end in shocked surprise.**

**Stepping out of the shower was a male skunk - about the same age as Mortimer who would be starting at Acme Looniversity in September. Fifi's eyes crossed as she registered two things - he was a very handsome young skunk - and unlike her family or Professor Le Pew, he was definitely the kind who had to wear pants in public.**

**Their eyes met. With an "Eeep!" the stranger grabbed for a towel and jumped back into the shower stall, his eyes wide and startled. One second later Fifi was out in the corridor, pressed against the wall as she dodged the unending high-speed traffic, her heart pounding.**

**"Mrs. Bunny!" She spotted Babs' mother making her way down the corridor. "You 'ave ze othair 'ouse guests? Ze skunk?"**

**Mrs. Bathsheba Bunny smiled, the orange-brown lepine nodding pleasantly. "Why, that's right, dear. His name is Henri, he's Mortimer's pen-pal. He comes over every year from Toulouse about this time. He just arrived yesterday, staying for a month. Have you met him?"**

**"Oh oui," Fifi felt her eyes starting to cross. "Certainment." She shook her head savagely, trying to clear her mind of the sight. Toulouse was her home town and the rest of her family were still living there. "And - ze lady bunny's bathroom? Where is eet please?"**

**"Just across the corridor. They're not labelled, I'm afraid - we so rarely have guests." Bathsheba Bunny pointed. Her nose twitched slightly. "It should be free by now."**

**Fifi was naturally quite insensitive to her own scent, but she noticed with alarm that her tail was twitching involuntarily and beginning to fume. "'Zank you! I weel need it!" She rushed into the room, spotted the pink décor and perfumes on the shelves, and sighed with relief. Half a minute later she discovered that Babs' sisters had already used all the hot water. **

**"Still," she told herself, "Ze cold showairs. I weel be needing zis." She had never had the luxury of hot showers in the scrap-yard, having mostly sponged and groomed her fur clean in a tarpaulin full of rainwater. Then, she had never lived underground before with a burrow-full of non-skunks … and a most unexpected neighbour who so very definitely was.**

* * *

><p>"<strong>Tuesday evening already!" Babs stretched her back, feeling a pleasant glow from the hard exercise of a day of spin-changing and slapstick routines. She was in Fifi's new room as it was the most uncluttered; they had been practicing hard since nine and by all accounts the rain had been hammering down outside all day. "Well, we've put in our hours for the day." She stretched out on the rug; there was a large and comfy bed but little other furniture as yet. "Feef - I'm sorry about your Cadillac, really I am. But - it's fun having you move in next door."<strong>

**Fifi smiled. "Zank you. Babs. You are ze life-saver."**

**"Hey! I look like a roll of candies?" Babs recoiled in mock indignation, but then giggled. "But just as sweet, I hope."**

**Fifi's tail twitched. "Theenking of sweet - you did not tell me about ze pen-pal of your brothair Mortimer."**

**"Oh, Henri." Babs waved dismissively. "I didn't think anything of it. He's always coming over. Every year since he was a cub." Suddenly she stopped, and a sly smile drifted across her face. "Why, Fifi. You've met him? He's awfully bashful."**

**Fifi shook her head slowly. "Mon Dieu. 'E 'as nothing to be shy about. I 'ad ze mix-up with ze showers zis morning. I saw 'im. I saw – everything."**

**Babs giggled. "Since you and Rhubella got engaged you've met one "skunk-hunk" after another - those French-Canadian athletes, that action hero bounty-hunter boss, and now the cutest, sweetest skunk-hunk on record. And yes, he does like girls. There's half a dozen of my sisters about to pull each other's fur out over him. If it was just two or three, one might get somewhere … but six or ten get in each others' way. Kind of fun watching them trip each other up."**

**"Cute and sensitive and ze lady's man too," Fifi buried her head in her paws. "What are ze chances of zat?"**

**"It's all go around here, isn't it? Whatever next, inquiring minds want to know?" Babs spin-changed into a TV nature journalist complete with bush jacket, camera and microphone. "Here on "_Skunk-watch_" we're watching the seasonal migrations … great roaming hordes of handsome male skunks passing through Acme Acres, as if drawn by some great unseen force of Nature…"**

**Fifi moaned. "Eeet is certain zat I will find out. Ze rain of skunks aftair zo many years. What did Fifi do, zat ze law of ze Conservation of Comedy 'ates her so?"**

**"Professor Coyote did say, gravity we can dodge sometimes but that law we can't." Babs' ears dipped slightly. "Cheer up! You've got Rhubella now, and for the rest - at least you can enjoy the scenery." Babs grinned manically. "And this show you won't mind even if it is in black and white."**

**Fifi threw a cushion at Babs, and a general pillow-fight ensued. Some things never changed.**

**Half an hour later, a purple and white skunkette and a pink and white bunny were lying flat out on Fifi's bed, worn out. **

**Fifi giggled. "Eet eez ze perfect way of working off ze tensions," she panted. **

**"If you don't have a Perfecto uniform to put on the drake-shaped punch-bag, that is." Babs contemplated her adorable toes. Her ears twitched. "We should get Shirley over, and maybe Mary if we can pry her off Jaggi with a crowbar. Now you've enough room - what about a sleepover?" **

**Fifi nodded vigorously; her Cadillac had never had enough room to sleep three in any comfort. "At ze weekend, oui - eet 'as been ages." She did not voice her thought that they might not have many more chances. In a few months their old life at Acme Acres would be over - Hollywood might beckon any of them, and there were independent studios springing up elsewhere all around the continent to call them away forever. This might be the last month they even lived in the same state. "I will ask Rhubella - and we shall be on ze best behaviour."**

**Babs winked. "Oh, I don't know." She whispered something in Fifi's ear. **

**The skunkette went rigid for an instant, and her tail began to twitch. She swatted Babs lightly with the pillow. "Babs! You 'ave ze cleanest toes but ze dirty mind. Zat ees not ze kind of stage performance I am planning with my career!" She hesitated. "And Ruby, she might not like ze audience heckling and eating of ze popcorn."**

**"Awww. Spoilsport. A regular sleepover it is, then." Babs was never one to wait around when she could do something immediately, and reached for the phone. Mobile phones did not work inside the burrow, but there was a wired handset in every room. Four minutes later she was done, having found everyone at home. "Right, that's it - if you can call Rhubella in. Should be good. Not just like old times - but some of that too."**

**"Rhubella she 'as told me of 'ow zey live in Perfecto. Ze sororities, ze exclusive cliques - ze running scores on 'oo is in and 'oo is out zis month." Fifi shook her head. "Even the dining fraternities - Roderick is ze chief of ze gourmet dining club Eta Pi."**

**Babs stifled a snort of laughter. "Eat-a Pie. Dining fraternity. What do you bet nobody in Perfecto ever spotted that one? They wouldn't appreciate the humour if you hit them with a grand piano!"**

**Just then there came a knocking at the metal hatch twenty feet above them. "Maybe it's Rhubella come on over already?" Babs suggested. "Not many toons know where you are."**

**Before she had finished speaking, there was a purple streak heading up the ladder as Fifi slammed open her new front door. And stopped.**

**It was a visitor she recognised from Perfecto, but not Rhubella. Spotless in a charcoal grey business suit and protected from the rain by an oiled silk umbrella, the feline lawyer Chemley pressed a document into Fifi's paw. "Your back rent bill, Ma'm, duly served. Five years late, but perfectly legal for all that. Due date is the end of the month." With that he bowed and turned, walking away before Fifi could react.**

**From below, Babs saw her friend unroll the document and suddenly lose all her colour, as if the rain had turned to bleach. Fifi gave a quiet moan.**

**"Babs. Eet ees all ovair with moi. First zat Danforth 'e ruins my poor 'ome - zen 'e ruins poor Fifi." She pointed to the document with shaking paws. "Zat duck 'e 'as billed moi - for ze half a million dollairs!"**

End Chapter Three


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**The week passed rapidly at both Acme Looniversity and Perfecto Prep; the sun came out and the junior years were revelling in the good weather with sports and outdoor trips. Actually the Perfecto team had a new footballer in from England who was teaching them the strategic uses of a professional foul – as they often boasted, they were anything but unprofessional in that establishment.**

** "Aaah - a perfect day for goofing-off!" Buster Bunny contemplated the scenery as he re-emerged from his burrow after lunch. "Just the perfect day to cut classes and spend at the ol' water hole."**

** Plucky Duck looked up from the latest edition of '_Starring in a Hollywood Blockbuster for Dummies_' he was trying to read. "Yeah. Right. Wasn't it you who said if we didn't get this revision done we could have all the goofing-off time we could use - unemployed?"**

** Buster cast him one of his trademarked rabbit grins. "Irony, Pluckster. It IS a perfect day to relax. But did I say we could afford to?" He stretched, his eyes going wide. "One more hour! We'll start with wild takes and wisecracks - you need work on those."**

** "Wisecracks. Humph. Any more cracks and I'll fracture." Plucky executed a perfect Freleng Fragmentation, his image shattering into pieces like a safety windscreen before reconstituting.**

** "Atta-duck! That's the way. Can't be a failure." Buster wriggled a blue ear.**

** "Except structural." Plucky managed a Stalling Slasher, dividing into six blocks as if Freddy Cougar had caught him with a paw swipe. He shivered as he reassembled; long practice had given the Acme Loo seniors a far greater resilience than the average toon, but it still smarted.**

** The afternoon wore on as they worked steadily. In the end, even Buster called it a halt. "Don't want to get stale," he admitted, putting down the Pasadena Jones bullwhip he had used to combine Action Heroics and discouraging Plucky from slacking. **

** "Stale? Boy, do I know how a 1970's bagel feels." Plucky fired one last shot. He slumped to the ground, panting. "Tonight I just want to crawl into the pit and sleep."**

** "The girls are all busy having a sleepover, I know. Fifi's new place." Buster raised an eyebrow. "How's Shirley - adjusting?"**

** Plucky hesitated. He parked his green rump down on a tree stump. "I used to ask why she can't be more like a normal girl. Me and my big beak."**

** "Oh? Babs said she'd been staying over with you watching your Freddy Cougar DVDs - and everything else." Buster shook his head. "I never thought I'd see the day."**

** Plucky was silent - remembering the sight of waking up to Shirley in her head-feather curlers, her white plumage in need of a morning shower. He had been quietly horrified at just how much hard work her toilette needed every day to get her into the spotlessly presented loon shape the Looniversity knew, having helped her with that chore. She also snored, though in a musical tone. **

**Plucky had not sat through years of Professor Porky's classes on story goals without being able to spot a plot problem when his beak was rubbed in it. Years ago he had fallen for a totally unattainable Loon, a brilliant rainbow on the horizon. Having got to that horizon he knew things would be different. "She's even given up trying to make me into a vegetarian. Still eats organic mung bean tofu and winces when I order the spicy meat feast pizza with triple sausage stuffed crust, though."**

** Buster sat down next to him. It was always hard to know with Plucky what advice he would take in, and what he would take in quite the wrong way. "If her aura never comes back – she's showing you what life's going to be like for you two." **_**This is me, she's saying – this is me, this is all I have, that I'm offering to you.**_** Buster's ears dipped. If Plucky had not worked that out, there would be little point in telling such a hopeless case.**

** "She's told me – it's too dangerous to go after it. She's guided me out there before, says I'd get lost on the astral plane. Forever. What, a mallard with no sense of direction?" Plucky snorted. "My ancestors found their way every Spring clear across the continent to one small pond in the Minnesota Ten Thousand Lakes – in the fog!" **

** Buster looked up innocently. Plucky had got lost before now in the Acme Giga-mall. "She knows her stuff, Pluckster. You've been carried as a first-class passenger out there. She ever let you fly solo?"**

** "Ha! What of it?" Plucky snapped his fingers derisively. "A duck afraid of flying? In three dimensions or ten, it should all be the same to "someone" with the record score in Mega Wing Commander 4! This isn't some shivering fledgling, you know. I am – Plucky Duck!" He struck a heroic pose.**

** Buster clapped slowly. "The one who didn't even believe in that half of Shirley's world? Who thought astral travel was a load of hooey?"**

** Plucky paused. "So she got me educated a bit outside the classroom. Hey! Life isn't all Porky Pig's lame Props Class 101. Was Columbus qualified in Atlantic crossing until he went and did it? And he still discovered Atlantic City."**

** "If Shirley says it's too dangerous – she means it." Buster looked at his friend closely. "She doesn't lie or exaggerate – you know that."**

** "I'll be good." Plucky pressed his finger-feathers together piously. "But for now – I want a sleepover too." He winked. "Any sleep over twelve hours sounds good to me."**

** "Well, you'll probably need it," Buster nodded. The mallard had been working hard at slapstick gags and wild takes all day, and by all accounts Shirley had been keeping him very busy at home. "Lunch tomorrow at Weenie-Burger? I've not been there in weeks."**

** The mallard hesitated. "Sure, Buster. I'll see you there. There's no reason why I shouldn't be able to make it. No reason at all." He stood, and looked at Buster and his burrow searchingly as if fixing it in his memory. "Well, time to head back and hit the old hay."**

** Buster waved, his eyes fixed on the retreating mallard. "Hmm."**

**A few miles away in Perfecto Prep, Rhubella too was finishing a week of hard work. Most of her class were spending about a quarter of their energy on their classwork, and the rest on sabotaging each other. That was the Perfecto way.**

** The rat snickered, relaxing in her room as she looked at the collection of items she had ordered urgently, a delivery that a medium-hard search by her classmates would find. "An ice-hockey mask, a magic grimoire, a book on discredited styles of hypnosis, and a crate of over-ripe bananas. Let's see them work out how all that fits together." **_**Maskirovka**_**, she recalled the Russian word - **_**that's what our Dirty Tricks**__**tutor Mrs. Tushenkov called it in the second-year – for every important plan, have at least one deception plan. Something to have them watching the chimney as you stroll straight in through the front door. Always make it cheap for you and dear for them**_**.**

** Having planted enough plot land-mines to cover her retreat, Rhubella smiled and turned her thoughts to the evening. **_**What will life be like, not having to do this all the time**_**? She wondered, being careful not to say it out loud. In Perfecto, walls had ears. Suddenly her T-pad vibrated as a Toonmail arrived. She looked down and nodded – her legal advisor was at work on ideas of how to make Danforth rue the day he threw Fifi out and billed her for the privilege of having "trespassed" on land he had retrospectively owned all the time. Toon law was a strange and confusing subject, but the owl Mr. Morgan was one of the best. **

** There came a knock on her door. She checked the door camera, and smiled as she opened it. It was not the kind of smile she gave to Fifi. "Well, Hello, Roddy."**

** Roderick Rat stood at the doorway dressed in his most impeccable suit, his quiff of black head-fur neatly brushed and a bouquet of orchids in his paw. "Rhubella." His voice was almost soft "I'm sorry for the way I treated you. It was just business, you know? Will you come back to me – if not now, then after we graduate? We make a great team. Remember all the things we've done." He proffered the flowers. "I have a table for two reserved at L'Occasion, and the limo awaits."**

** Rhubella raised an eyebrow. "Nice try. But you're rather too late. I don't need your money, and for the rest of you – I know exactly what you've got to offer. Remember? These days I've got someone waiting for whom it isn't "just business." It's personal."**

** Roderick snorted. "Rhubella … what would your family say if they knew what you were doing with the hired help?"**

** Rhubella extended one finger – the one with her plain silver engagement ring. "They know. They aren't too happy but – they'll be at the wedding."**

** "Oh, come on." Roderick's eyes narrowed. "A Perfecto graduation scheme is one thing but this is ridiculous. She's an Acme Loo-ser! A hobo skunk! Where's your self-respect?"**

** "Feeling a lot better than when I dated you." Rhubella turned her nose up. She grinned, opening her laptop and putting her paw on the scanner as she launched the lie-detector. "Tonight I'm going to be spending the night with her and her friends. That's exactly where I want to be." She snickered mentally as the screen flashed green for truth and Roderick's jaw hit the ground with a clang that would have earned points at an Acme Wild Takes class. "You're outclassed and outnumbered, Roddy. Live with it. Or don't." With that she swept past him, her nose in the air.**

** Roderick stared after her for a minute. Then he opened his phone and dialled. "Danforth? I take it all back. You go after that skunk with everything you've got. Right now. And we may have to … expand the target area a little."**

"**It's a nice place you've got here!" It was eight o'clock and Mary Melody was looking around Fifi's new room – or burrow, to be exact. "I remember you saying your old car was starting to leak."**

** Fifi gave a sad smile. "Mais oui. Eet would 'ave been no problem for one more month in ze summertime, though. And though I would 'ave said "au revoir" to eet forevair after ze month … I did not want to see eet go ze way eet did." Her tail and ears drooped.**

** Mary winced, not wanting to remind Fifi of that. "Don't think of it as Perfecto one-nil. Remember you've got Rhubella now – she's worth a thousand points on that scale – if anyone's counting!"**

** "Not moi," Fifi said hastily. But then a slow smile spread across her muzzle. "At Perfecto zey do. And zat will smart!"**

** "You mentioned smart? I'm here!" Babs bounced in from the family burrow, laden with snacks. "Carrot chips, carrot cakes, carrot cookies …" she raised an eyebrow. "Hey! At "chez bunny" what did you expect?"**

** "They say flamingos are really white feathered, they get their pigment from eating pink shrimps," Mary mused "I wonder if a carrot-free diet would get us a bleached Babs?"**

** Babs spin-changed into a dishevelled white lab coat. "Ve specialize in ze experiments … ze hideous, forbidden experiments…" she intoned in her best Mad Scientist voice. "But not zat! Zhere are ze limits!"**

** Mary and Fifi snickered, accepting the vitamin-rich snacks as Babs spin-changed back. "It's the only time we've got together all term. Next time we do this … are you having a batchelorette party, Babs?" Mary asked.**

** Babs' eyes went wide in shock. "What? Me? Painting the town red, leaving a trail of debauch and devastation clear across the state you could see from space? A whole evening of reckless abandonment before I slip into my lovely white bridal gown the next morning while they're still hosing down the ruins of Acme Acres?" She paused, contemplating the idea. "Sounds good to me. Want to arrange it, Mary?"**

** Mary's toon blush manifested two inches clear of her body in a rosy fog. "You haven't named a day, officially? Just let me know." She hesitated. "It might be a year or two for me and Jaggi, if you'd do the same for me. But if it's sooner – that's OK too."**

** "What, in case something "develops" in the meantime?" Babs snickered, looking at Mary's athletic figure. The toon blush around Mary deepened.**

** "Le sigh." Fifi's tail drooped. "Zat ees something zat weel be – tres difficile for Ruby and moi. But we are trying!" She winced. "And – if Ruby cannot shake of zat Danforth and 'is rent bill, we will be ze Bonny and Clyde on ze run from ze debt collectors. Paying ze 'alf million dollairs – impossible!"**

** "She'll find a way," Babs predicted confidently. "Maybe I can't use a crystal ball like Shirley could but hey! When have Perfecto ever finished up on top?" She giggled, her eyes glancing towards Fifi's bed. "Not counting Rhubella and you."**

** Fifi swatted her lightly with a cushion. "Babs! We will 'ave to get you safe and married to Bustair before you become, ze public 'azard to navigation."**

** "Sorry! Sorry!" Babs' grin was slightly manic. "It's just … I feel like the last carrot-cake on the shelf. Well, there's still Elmyra – but she's more like a poisoned saccharine cake. If it wasn't for that white dress waiting at Wedding Peach with my name on it …" she took a deep breath "you don't know how tempted I've been to give Buster a "dress rehearsal" or two. Or fifty-two."**

** "That sounds like a "bunny thing", all right," Mary allowed. "But instead you're getting your work done. There'll be time for you and Buster later. You've got all the rest of your lives."**

** "And zey do not do ze re-sits for ze final Looniversity exams," Fifi backed her up. "What 'appens at ze end of ze month ees a one-shot thing. Now or nevair."**

** "Yes, yes," Babs sighed, throwing herself back down on the cushions. Where Oriental mystics might contemplate their navels, she contemplated her incredibly cute toes – admittedly Fifi had nothing to be ashamed of on those lines, but they both felt sorry for Mary. "Still. Me, Babs, the last in the queue! Who'd have believed it? And who'd ever have thought you, Mary, and Shirley of all people would be first? Plucky gets lucky? Not likely, ducky. But it happened."**

** She spin-changed into a light 1960's style suit, and packed her pink ears down into a slick Kennedy pompadour. "We choose to go to the loon." She cast a confident eye at her audience, leaning over the cushion as if it was a podium. "We choose to go to the loon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard… but it will be done. And it will be done before the end of this decade."**

**Fifi giggled. "You 'ave eet, Babs! You 'ave eet exact! Ze duck with ze ego ze size of Minnesota would not be content with less zan… ze 'ighest prize of all." Her ears drooped. "And now… she 'as lost zat."**

** Babs spin-changed back, and her long ears perked up at a sound from outside. "Speak of the loon – here she is, I bet." She streaked up the ladder to the hatch, and popped it open. "Shirley the Loon! Rhubella the … honorary skunkette! Come on down!"**

** "Like, hi Babs," Shirley descended the ladder gingerly, where once she would have floated down buoyed in the planet's energy field like a dandelion seed on the wind. "Hi, Mary, Fifi! It's been like totally ages!"**

** "You seem in a good mood," Mary looked up at her as the loon handed over a basket full of free-range humanely harvested organic salad. "Feeling happy with the exam work?"**

** Shirley shrugged. "It's progressing towards oneness. Even without my powers – I can feel that." She could evidently also feel Mary's unspoken question. "When life hands you lemons – don't get negatory about it, 'kay? Start looking for lemon recipes. Lemonade, lemon squash, lemon meringue, lemon and chickpeas with couscous..."**

** "…Or some junk." Babs finished for her, grinning. Suddenly her ears went down. "Seriously? How are you – coping? And Plucky?"**

** Shirley cast her a sad smile. "If I'd been way harmonious with Plucky for just another season, he might have picked up enough to stand a chance at going after my aura? But – a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Like, Mother wouldn't let me read her grimoires till I was nearly ten, I mean! I told Plucky… him launching on the astral plane would be like tying a hundred helium balloons to a lawn chair and sailing off into the blue. He'd get somewhere – but where, and if he could ever get back – mondo bad news." She sat down on the cushion that most resembled her futon, carefully arranging her well-groomed white tail feathers.**

** "Chasing after a spacecraft on a lawn chair blowing in the wind… eww. I get the picture." Babs' nose wrinkled. "But if you talked him out of going after your aura … and if she never comes home on her own …"**

** "Are we playing ze Truth or Dare?" Fifi asked brightly. She was relaxing on a royal-sized beanbag with Rhubella. Rhubella had insisted on getting her some more furniture – and Fifi had not wanted to argue. "Babs – you remember, in our first years 'ere – we played eet all ze time."**

** Rhubella looked on, her tail twitching. "At Perfecto … that's the kind of thing you just don't dare to do. Ever. Letting information go for free – when you'd normally steal it and sell it."**

** Fifi snorted. "We do not 'ave zis as ze mutual blackmail club, Ruby."**

**Rhubella gave an embarrassed grin. "Sorry. Lifetime of conditioning. I was going to ask if you've checked the room for bugs … but you'd just ask what your teacher Bugs would be doing in here." She brought out the backpack she had been carrying. "Oh, I almost forgot – before we get too comfortable. I brought a present." Rhubella pulled out three bottles of wine. "This is rated three stars on the seniors' wine list at Perfecto."**

"**Your cafeteria has a wine list? And here's the rest of us still making do with the Mystery Meat at the Looniversity" Mary mused.**

**Rhubella's tail twitched. The Perfecto dossiers had the true solution to the Case of the Mystery Meat, but she sensed it would not be a friendly act to reveal its true nature to folk who had been eating it for years in the Looniversity cafeteria.**

** Babs' nose wrinkled. "Rhubella! This isn't that kind of a sleepover. Besides I don't drink. I don't think any of us do."**

** Fifi shrugged. "I 'ave ze wine at 'ome in France with ze family meal. Eet is, not ze big deal."**

** "Same here," Mary nodded. "A glass or so at weekends with supper. And my parents are doctors, you know."**

** Shirley raised an eyebrow. "So, Babs, you're planning a totally trad wedding next month and not getting in any totally trad champagne?" She cast an eye over Babs' food selection. "They do a sparkling carrot wine, too."**

** "You're old enough to get married, you're old enough to enjoy a glass if you want to," Rhubella shrugged. "Up to you. Otherwise – more for us!"**

** Babs spin-changed into a submariner's costume and assumed an anguished expression. "Hull integrity failing... peer pressure exceeding safety design depth …" she grinned. "Well, if it hasn't turned you into staggering winos yet… I'll get some glasses." She vanished rapidly in the direction of the main burrow.**

**Half an hour later, all five were sitting comfortably with a glass of sparkling Eastern Molvanian Riesling to hand (or paw). Mary spun the empty first bottle, which ended up pointing at Rhubella. "If it's not a Perfecto top secret … why were you always so – dead, as cheerleaders? You, Margot and Luanne Lecroy just used to show up and sit around. I've seen more animal magnetism in a vegetable patch."**

**Rhubella giggled. "We had a two-hundred year history of unbroken sports wins, till Roddy blew it at the Acme Bowl. How much encouragement did we think our team needed? What was the point? We're in it for the status." She raised an eyebrow. "After that – we livened up. We had some Junior-year girls hiring in top professional trainers for themselves, we couldn't let them upstage us."**

** Mary nodded, handing the bottle over. "Fair enough. Your turn."**

**Rhubella spun it and it pointed to Shirley. "While we're still talking about shaking pom-poms – we could never work out why you were into that? Shaking your tail at the crowd didn't fit with the rest of your character dossier."**

**Shirley opened her bill and closed it, blushing with embarrassment. "Like, I thought it was you know, way degrading too? That was back when I started at Acme. But Babs started the team and – she asked me. So I helped her." She paused. "Mother said I should take up one embarrassing sport to balance my chakras, and stop me getting way too self-centred."**

"**Loon goes missing…" Mary pulled out her pocket reporter's microphone and gestured dramatically. "Last seen vanishing up own astral cord!"**

"**That kinda thing." Shirley took a sip of her wine, and relaxed. "And it goes way harmoniously with my yoga – more aerobic." She took the bottle and spun it, the neck pointing straight at Babs. "Mondo hard to think of a question for you I don't know the answer to by now, Babs. But – I can't see the futures any more." She paused. "So – are you planning on following the family tradition? I mean how many bunny kids has your mother got?"**

**Babs did a quick mental calculation. "Twenty-six. Mom says that's enough for now."**

**There was a quiet snickering from Fifi. "Eet took 'er zat long to work zat out? Did ze 'ouse seem too empty with only twenty?"**

**Shirley smiled serenely. "No surprises like that for me – I've always been you know, in total control of my life energies. I can divert bio-energies like, towards or away from where I want them."**

"**Hey, it's a bunny thing!" Babs shrugged. "It only suits some of us, or the world would already be up to its ears in incredibly cute and talented bunnies. I know one thing – I didn't work my cute cotton-tail off at the Looniversity all this time to spend the next ten years filling baby bottles and wiping bunny drool off the floor. I get enough of that here with my siblings. Still. Someday… if I ever get tired of having the world of stage, screen and style adore me then Buster's going to be kept very busy expanding the Bunny burrow." She paused, and winked. "And you can read that remark two ways." She spun the bottle, which ended up pointing back at her own adorable toes. "Wah! Own goal!"**

"**What do you do when that happens?" Rhubella asked curiously. She had traded information value-for-value with Margot, Luanne and Giselle at times, but nothing like this free-for-all.**

"**Reveal one secret fact, or secret fear." Babs' ears drooped. She was silent for a few seconds. "I'm marrying Buster. Of course I am. And I want to! I've always wanted to. But – that's just it. If I'd dated a dozen bucks before I could say, no to that one, that one's better – then when I find the Number One, One Hundred Percent – I'd know for sure." She bit her lip. "I think he's perfect. Even the way he annoys me... nobody does it better. I can't imagine anyone could be better. But it's almost as if we were brought up together on a desert island or something. No competition."**

"**And you wondair eef 'e feels ze same way, deep down?" Fifi asked quietly.**

**Babs nodded. "He's never dated other girls either. We've known each other all our lives."**

** Shirley looked at her friend's drooping pink ears. "Hey Babs, stay clear of that Elemental Plane of Angst! I can't see auras now but – I did for years, you know? If any two were made for each other – I'm telling you, it's you and Buster. And that script's graven in stone, no rewrites." She took the bottle, and gave it a hard spin. "And another own goal - for me! Just my bad karma."**

** Babs sniffed, then a mischievous gleam reappeared in her eye. "You've seen the Secrets of the Cosmos – Shirley the Loon has known all, sees all – come on, tell … well, some anyway."**

** Shirley blinked. She had already told Babs about the way she had wrecked a dozen timelines by claiming Plucky the way she had. That would not qualify as a secret. "If my aura never comes home – I worry I might be totally tempted to find another way to do what it used to do for me." She took a deep breath. "Babs, you've like seen what's in Mother's cellar?"**

** "She's into drawing a lot of surprising geometry on the floor, and reads books that have to be chained down for the good of the Universe," Babs explained to the rest. "Not your style though, Shirley? Drawing square circles, two-sided triangles and summoning things from, umm, way out of state?"**

** The loon shivered. "Dark sorcery. Bleah. Necromancy, pe-eww! Really not my style, no way. I've always thought it way grody to the max. Mother never tried to push me one way or another, but she always lets me know what she can do that way."**

** "Ooh, spooky." Babs spin-changed into a slinky sorceress. "I draw the circles, chant the spells and conjure the ghosts of re-runs past and pilot episodes yet to come!"**

** Shirley smiled. "It's mondo dangerous stuff. You know, in one of my past lives I was like High Priestess of a volcano god? I got just one little ritual wrong then I was starting my next incarnation real soon."**

** "Mmm. Try and avoid that at Acme Acres – our student insurance runs out next month."Babs relaxed, looking at the bottle. "Two own-goals in a row finishes the game, Rhubella." She flashed the rat a glance, where she and Fifi were cuddling with Fifi's tail wrapped around them both. "So, it's not a question you have to answer but I'm curious – when you walk down the aisle, which one of you two ends up wearing the tux?"**

** Fifi blushed. "We 'ave not decided. Eet ees Ruby 'oo must wear some kind of ze costume or we would 'ave just ze veils and bouquets. Zat Wedding Peach boutique ees so dear."**

** "That won't be a problem," Rhubella assured her.**

** Fifi nodded, hugging. "But ze bride must arrange 'er own dress! Eet is ze tradition."**

** Mary Melody smiled. She pulled out her reporter's microphone. "Acme Acres registry office reports they're having to widen their doors. Why? Not just because the population is getting fatter – but two full lace and chiffon bridal gowns side by side won't fit!"**

** "Le Mmmm…" Fifi frowned slightly. "Eet is zo big a thing, zat we 'ave decided. Where shall ze ceremony be, mon amour? In zis state eet is possible – in France, no. But ze marriage licences from abroad zey are valid in France regardless… we 'ave ze planning to begin."**

** "But not too much hard planning till your exams finish – I hope!" Mary cautioned. "Wouldn't be a good idea. You need the time getting ready for the finals."**

** "She's right," Rhubella sighed. "But we can at least name a day – say the month after final exams? That'll be three weeks after we get the results and after Babs and Buster get back. Enough time to arrange things." She looked into the skunkette's eyes. "The details aren't important to me. The place, the rituals don't really matter – all I want is you. I'd marry you by the roadside in the rain if I had to."**

** "Aww…. that's so sweet" Babs sighed, her eyes going heart-shaped as the two kissed. She finished her wine, and giggled. "This stuff goes to your head! It's the bubbles!"**

** "You're not used to it... better go carefully," Mary cautioned. "Better not have too many – bubbles."**

** Babs snorted, throwing herself back on the pillow, pink bubbles manifesting from her ears. She looked at the alarm clock on Fifi's bedside table. "An hour to midnight! Then anyone who's been slacking on their diet … turns into a pumpkin."**

** "Pumpkin's out of season now," Mary Melody observed. "But I'm starving." She smiled shyly. "I've been – keeping busy exercising." She handed out the party food, and for half an hour they shared a companionable supper.**

** "Ooh. I am – ze stuffed skunkette." Fifi was the first to finish. "No more or Ruby weel be marrying ze purple and white pumpkin."**

** Rhubella kissed her. "At Perfecto they say you can't be too rich or too thin." She looked at Fifi's curves. "They're wrong. At least I don't need to smoke to stay thin … though I used to think it was cool to try."**

** Babs giggled; years ago she had worked hard on an Advanced Prankster project and forced Roderick and Rhubella to quit smoking, although their health had not been her motive. "Everyone learns and moves on. I used to think rap was cool, so help me – and so did Buster." She made a gagging sound at the memory. "Even Elmyra's moved on. I saw her this morning – till she opened her mouth I hardly knew her. Nice re-build, Fifi!"**

** Fifi shrugged. "Eet was time for ze change – and all ze big changes came together for 'er. Ze new summair job, ze 'ormones of une femme kicking in at last – and au revoir to 'er old classmates. Ze style and costume zey are only a part of eet."**

** "I'm planning a new costume too – a real change." Babs nodded. "Farewell old lilac skirt, you've served me well! Something I can wear to work starring in Hollywood." She raised an eyebrow at her friends' gaze. "Well, why not? Aim high, aim at the very top. That's the thing. Then if you don't get all the way to start – you're still way up there."**

** "Ze updated Jessica Rabbit outfit, possible, non?" Fifi cast an appraising glance over her friend's figure. "You can spin-change into any shape, certainment – but zis is ze one you wake up to in ze morning."**

** "Along with brown eyes... I never could sleep in my violet contacts." Babs stretched. "Thinking of sleep – it's been a long week. It's been great to do this again! I've missed it."**

** The conversation carried on for awhile, fading slightly as one after another they let sleep claim them. Despite the wine Babs was the last one awake; in the dim burrow nightlight she looked around at her friends. Shirley was in her head-feather curlers, the loon's tightly coiled quiff needing constant care to stay in shape, and from what she had let slip she was planning to spend the weekend with Plucky. Mary was sleeping the sleep of the just, though just what was hard to judge from the smile on her face. Stripes were probably involved somewhere. Fifi and Rhubella were curled companionably on Fifi's bed, their tails entwined. Acme Acres' unlikeliest couple were certainly a loving couple.**

** _We could do this again in say two weeks_ … Babs' thoughts held a quiet desperation _Or … maybe the day after our final exam? We'll all still be here then. For awhile. Our very last days and hours before we go, one by one_. Even if Hollywood and instant stardom beckoned, the idea of this being their last sleepover gave the pink and white bunny a painful twinge somewhere deep inside her. _I can't have everything… and every film however long or brilliant has a final scene. No matter how good the sequels are._ With that she settled down to sleep, trying not to remind herself of the obvious next line. _Compared with the original - how good are most sequels?_**

**The next day dawned bright and hot, and after a breakfast she approved of (organic vegan free-range carrot muesli, made entirely from strictly vegan carrots humanely harvested) Shirley thanked Babs and Fifi for a fine evening and waved farewell.**

** "Give Plucky my – regards," Babs winked. "And I hope he's been resting up!"**

** "Fer sure, Babs," Shirley preened herself in the Bunny family hall mirror, checking her plumage was immaculate. "I've got plans for us today. A long swim on Acme Lake should be totally harmonious."**

** "You're not taking your bathing costume?" Babs noted her friend's lack of a sports bag. Carrying wet costumes in Hammerspace made things in there go musty. Being a pure-strain avian Shirley could walk around in her bare feathers as modestly as Professor Daffy Duck, but putting on bathing costume was traditional for toons to swim or sunbathe in.**

** Shirley paused. "Something Plucky said really made sense." She paused for Babs to marvel at the novelty, which she duly did. "_We are waterfowl_, he said. Like I mean that's so totally obvious, but …"**

** "I remember one Autumn he tried migrating South with the wild ducks, actually flying." Babs nodded. "The call of the wild. Didn't get far on his own wings – but still."**

** "More than I've ever done that way, Babs. Be true to your nature, or some junk? Except – it's not junk." Shirley cast a critical look at her neat pullover, and sighed. "All my powers went off with my Aura, and they're not coming back. I'll be true to my Waterfowl nature – if that's all I've got left, that's what I'm going to exercise." She spotted Babs' ears drooping. "Hey, remember? No negative thoughts, Babs, like we said? When life hands you lemons, make lemonade. Full of vitamins." She paused. "And when you get handed guano – compost. That's organic nutrients, for all our vegetable friends."**

** Babs giggled. "That's more like the loon we know. Go and sock 'em dead!"**

** Shirley made her way through the woods towards the wetlands, humming a tune that came into her head. She checked herself as she remembered just what it was; the opening song to "_Monster Truck Deathmatch_" she had watched with Plucky. The sport itself was one hideous mess of aggression and eco pollution that she shivered to think about its effect on her karma from just watching… but it was something that made her mallard happy, and that was something she was grimly determined to do. Shirley forced herself to carry on with the tune to its finale, though the sound effects of two fifty-tonne trucks in a head-on smash at ninety miles an hour were hard to hum.**

** Suddenly she smiled, thinking of the day she had planned. "A swim in Acme Lake… the way Nature intended two waterfowl. That'd be like harmonious at least." She felt her mind wander, which was a rare thing. "Clean water. Sunshine. Soft mud on my webbed feet. Fresh delicious fish and shellfish … say what? Whoa girl, you're strict vegan!" She suddenly stood still, trembling, just where the forest came to an end. "Where did that, as in totally spring from? That is so not me." There was a sudden pang of desire for the taste and feel of live fish wriggling in her beak, the feel of small fish bones digesting in her crop, and for the textured crunch of paper-thin shells of freshwater mussels, swallowed shell and all. Just as suddenly, every argument the loon could put against it failed to make headway against the hot core of instinct that had somehow appeared deep inside her. **

** Shirley shook her head ruefully. "This back to Nature thing can go way too far." She told herself as she carried on, her heart soaring at the sight of Plucky's reed hut at the water's edge. She recalled Plucky there swallowing boiled clams like popcorn for supper the week before; the sight and scent of it had disgusted her then. "Maybe I've caught it off Plucky … I'm the first ever victim of passive eating? Way gross."**

** As she approached she felt her tail feathers starting to spread at the prospect of the day she had planned. _But no fish, no way, nohow…_ she told herself firmly _they have a total right not to be eaten. I should know better by now. Me, to even think of being some mondo gross carnivore?_ Straining her eyes for the sight of mallard, she was surprised to see not green feathers but blue and white fur as Buster threw the door open, his fur bristling with alarm.**

** "Like, hi, Buster. Is Plucky in? We're going out for a swim." Shirley took in the buck's shocked expression. "Why the bummer vibes? Buster – have you and Plucky been up all night again watching those zombie apocalypse movies?"**

** Buster swallowed. "You'd better come in. I just got here a couple of minutes ago. He's in there… sort of."**

** Shirley's eyes went wide as she entered the hut. Plucky was lying on the bed, breathing but lying very still.**

** "We were going to meet for lunch … but I had a feeling about this. I found a note." Buster picked up a paper from the crate that served as a bedside table; Plucky's usual scrawl was on it.**

** "_Buster… if you read this I may be late for weenie-burger. Tell Shirley I've gone loon fishing. I won't come back without her_." Shirley read, and the colour drained from her already pale form. "Oh wow. He's gone and done it. I told him to absolutely not do this!"**

** "Yeah. But when did the Pluckster ever take good advice?" Buster looked down at the still figure. "Still – you've gone without your aura before – and yours has taken his for a walk in the woods a time or two. Did he have a lot of power that way to lose?"**

** Shirley shook her head, tears in her eyes. "It's not like that. He's, like, gone after me with everything he's got. Everything! Maybe doubles his chances … but only from maybe, from one to two percent? He's thrown the whole stack of chips on the table… bet the farm, you know?"**

** Buster winced. "So if he loses that he won't have astral cab fare home?"**

** Shirley knelt at the bedside, tears running down her bill and her finger-feathers pressed against the mallard's. "Buster. His body can't stay empty for long like this. Never mind cab fare home – if he doesn't get back soon … he's not coming home."**

** End Chapter 4**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"**This is not the relaxing Saturday lunchtime I had in mind." Buster Bunny sat by the hospital bed where Plucky was plumbed to a life support machine. Babs was sitting next to him holding his paw tightly, while in the next room Professor Wile-E was talking urgently with the medical staff.**

** "I hope Shirley and her mother come up with something," Babs looked down at the still form on the bed. "But some toons go into coma for years... until a new generation of fans discovers them and brings them back. Or sometimes toons find a way out themselves." By the bedside Buster had brought in what the postman had delivered too late for Plucky to watch – the Director's Uncensored Cut edition of '_Extreme Celebrity Monster Truck Deathmatch_' including extra slow-motion footage and blooper reels. "Maybe if we play some of this he'll hear it somehow? I saw it work on TV on some toon in a coma!"**

** "Ahem." Professor Wile-E Coyote entered, carrying a sheaf of papers. "It is rather worse than that, Miss Bunny. And I fear time is running out fast."**

** Babs glowed with automatic pride, looking down at her violet diamond engagement ring. _Miss Bunny … that's my name... wear it out if you want …. I won't need that one much longer!_ She shook her head, focussing on Plucky. "What's so urgent? He's being looked after."**

** The Dean of Acme Looniversity's School of Hard Knocks sighed. "If it was a coma … his vital force would still be in there supporting his physical form. Comatose indeed, but … present." He paused. "You recall my lectures on Toon metabolism, I trust?"**

** Buster stood up, closed his eyes in concentration and began to recite. "Toons owe their resilience to their energy form giving shape to their material chromoplasm… this is how recovery from "Toon Takes", spin changes and other gag effects works. In a healthy toon the chromoplasm is refreshed at twenty-four cycles a second – though some of the earliest toons have been measured at twenty. The material form may be flattened, cut up in any way or even ground to a powder… but as long as the energy form is there it will re-form, as from around a seed crystal." His voice trailed off. "Oh."**

** "Oh indeed. The concept, the very essence of Plucky Duck is no longer there. Without refreshing, his chromoplasm will begin to fade like any material pigment." Professor Coyote cast Buster a sharp glance. "Question - if I make a hole through a mountainside with tunnel paint, how long will it remain navigable in bright sunlight?"**

** "Eeehh… about thirty hours." Buster had not wasted the study time since Spring Break. "Then – any toon properties are lost and it reverts to normal matter."**

** "If you can't smell fresh paint, don't try the tunnel," Babs added "being half a mile underground in a tunnel that suddenly stops existing, hurts."**

** Professor Coyote smiled sadly; he had written the textbook from personal experience. "Top marks for theory, Miss Bunny. I could wish the day's – practical example – was something else."**

"**So – he's just going to dry up and vanish like a puddle on a sidewalk? Poor Plucky!" Babs' eyes brimmed with tears. "Isn't there anything we can do?"**

"**His physical needs are being met," Professor Coyote nodded at the life-support machine. "But that is not the problem. Should his essence return to his body he will wake up – but the only known person qualified to bring him back is already out there. If he fails… he fades. At some point he will have gone too far."**

"**Yeah. I was playing Mega Wing Commander 4 with Pluckster only last weekend," Buster reminisced. "There's one mission where you leave the carrier mid-ocean and look for land. If you don't turn round before you've burned half your fuel you can't get back… you have to keep going and hope you find somewhere before the fuel runs out. If not then you're going down, game over."**

"**Down to a dark and sunless sea." Professor Coyote looked at the rabbits. "Please tell me you have no idea how to go after him."**

**Buster and Babs looked at each other then back at him. "Not a clue." They chorused.**

**The battle-scarred coyote sighed with relief. "That's the one good piece of news I've heard all day." **

**Back in the ancient Gothic house in the woods behind Acme Looniversity, Shirley McLoon was having a "like, totally inharmonious day" as she described it to her Mother after passing on the facts.**

** Melicent McLoon was usually a surprise to people who knew her daughter. She was a Loon of course, with the full adult black and white square plumage pattern on her back and extending over her shoulders like a wrapped shawl. Most folk who had heard of her interests expected to see a black-clad, sinister sorceress – or knowing Shirley's tastes, someone hung down with mystic charms and amulets. A 1960's beehive hairstyle, conservative lemon-coloured cardigan and spotless white kitchen apron hardly fitted either the style of Shirley's New Age or her mother's arcane contacts with the exceedingly Ancient Age.**

** "Sit down dear, and I'll make you a nice herbal tea." Melicent patted the overstuffed Victorian couch in the living-room. "Your poor beau isn't going to have anything sudden happen to him – unless of course he does get back to his body. We need to talk."**

** Shirley sat down, her eyes downcast, for once forgetting to complain about it being a leather seat. "I'm like totally responsible… it's my aura he's gone after. If she wants to come home she can. And if they meet out there, she can bring Plucky home."**

** "Yes dear." An avian eyebrow rose. "But we both know that's not very likely to happen, don't we? And he's not likely to get back under his own power. Even if he could find the way. Plus, you and I know there are severe dangers out there just waiting to make a meal of an unshielded spirit."**

** Shirley drooped. "And I said Plucky was selfish. And cowardly."**

** "I remember. And it took this for you to find out you have a toon who's not only willing to die for you, but probably will." Melicent shook her head. "It's a good thing you made sure of his eggs while you could."**

** Shirley looked at her mother, her eyes and beak wide open in shock. A faint strangled squawk was her only sound.**

** Melicent looked back at her daughter fondly. "Now then, dear. This scene is usually played the other way around, hmmm? It's generally a daughter telling her shocked and disbelieving mother. What do you think it means when your body suddenly starts telling you it wants high grade protein and lots of calcium, and it needs it right now?" She smiled reminiscently. "When I carried your egg, it was shrimps I had a craving for. Raw shrimp, shells and all. You'd better put your diet principles to one side and give your body what it needs. If not for your sake, then for your eggs."**

** "Eggs? Like, no way!" Shirley blinked. "I'm in, total harmonic tune with my bio energies… I've been stopping eggs happening since April. Anyway I'd know!"**

** "You were in tune and control, dear." Melicent sat down next to her. "Not any more. You had no idea today that anything was wrong with Plucky either until you found him – it was Buster Bunny not you who had the presentiment. You were full of plans for the two of you, with not a cloud on the horizon as far as you could see."**

** Shirley swallowed, acknowledging the fact.**

**Melicent smiled sadly. "That part of you left in a huff after you decided to play battery hen. Well, battery hens lay eggs. My grand-children. That's not so bad a thing, is it?" She squeezed Shirley's wing-fingers gently. "I think we should look at every option of getting their father back, don't you?"**

** Shirley nodded. "There's only one person I've ever met who had enough astral power and control… and a way pivotal thing, he's met Plucky too." Her feathers drooped. "But I've totally no idea how to find him."**

** "I know who you mean. And he's someone you might have to make the kind of deal with you never wanted to." Melicent put her wing around her daughter. "Colonel Hal Fenix, from that Hideously Unnatural Forces military unit you ran into on your Spring Break. Yes, you told me all about him. The total opposite to everything you've ever believed in."**

** "He's a good toon, even if he wears a way uncool military-aggressive uniform! I could read his aura – bits of it. He read me down to my basal charkas… I was like clear glass to him, he saw everything I'd got." Shirley paused. "He knew I wouldn't want to work for him – but he made the offer. In case I changed my mind. He really needs my talents." She shuddered. "If he can get Plucky back for me I'll do whatever I'm asked to … even if it's spending the rest of my life being sent down sewers hunting down way unclean spirits." **

** "Wearing the uniform?" Melicent asked gently.**

** Shirley nodded, her eyes clenched shut. "Or in my bare feathers. Like, whatever. I'm only really useful to him with my aura working. But – if he gets Plucky back I'd do it anyway. With a shovel."**

** "Very well." Melicent considered the problem. "Now… as to contacting him in a hurry. A military unit that nobody admits exists, I don't think we'll find in the phone book. But we do know what he does." She gave one of her special smiles that made Elder Things uneasy. "If the fire brigade wasn't listed – how could you get to meet a fireman?"**

** "Go to a fire," Shirley replied promptly. "But he only gets called out to way special 'fires'. And there's not many of those around Acme Acres. When students are going like wild at MiskaToonic, maybe." Suddenly her eyes and beak went wide open in shock. "Mother! You're not going to…"**

** Melicent looked at her daughter. "You might want to start rehearsing what to say for when he turns up and isn't happy with this." She paused. "Unless you have a better idea? Your aura could have found his before wherever he is, but right now…" She cast a glance at the orrery that slowly rotated in the corner of the room; its mechanical dance of planets and moons as familiar to the McLoon family as other households had a hall clock. "I'd say the stars are about right. And there's no time like the present."**

** Two loons looked at each other. Shirley sighed. "I'll help you unchain those books you borrowed from MiskaToonic University," she said "I know they're way heavy – in every way."**

**The Acme Acres hospital had extensive gardens where recuperating toons and visitors could enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. Mid-afternoon saw a blue and a pink bunny sitting at a table in the shade, a plate of carrot chips untouched in front of them. Neither had any appetite.**

** "This isn't something we can do," Babs sighed, then looked around at the hospital building. "We're not into spirit plane travel stuff. The trouble is – neither are the doctors."**

** "Check. Can't rabbit-tunnel through the aetheric plane! Remember we once took that "Fantastic Voyage" trip inside Plucky's mind with Calamity's micro-ship … but that's no use. We could go back in and find a "nobody home" sign maybe – but we can't follow where he's gone." Buster's ears twisted in concentration. **

** There was a silence. "I keep thinking it's so brave and self-sacrificing of Plucky … but the trouble is, that's not the only explanation." Babs' ears drooped.**

** "I know what you mean. I'm Plucky's best friend but I can't shake that feeling either. He fell in love with Shirley, with all of her powers – and he doesn't go for half measures." Buster agreed. "There's plenty of pretty "waterfowl next door" around Acme Acres – or is that "waterfowl next pond"? There was Maria Mandarin, I mean. I thought she liked him a lot more than Shirley ever did."**

** Babs turned pale. "Shirley thinks she stole him from her. She worries a lot about it. The trouble is … I can't help thinking she's right."**

** "Hmm. Maria's been going around looking like someone stole all her lines from the script, since Spring Break," Buster agreed. "And Plucky's found out what Shirley without her powers is like. That's not the loon he wanted all these years. She told him what the risks were going after her aura but he went anyway."**

** "That's the Plucky Duck we know and… some of us love, mile-high ego and all" Babs winced. "Like he says, "_made of pure Grade-A WIN_!" He can't imagine not going for it." She paused. "What was that dumb game show he and Dizzy went on in the second-year? He got hospitalised even though he is a toon." A small smile crept over her face. "Oh, I remember now."**

**_ "That's Incredibly Stupid!"_ She and Buster chorused.**

** "Heh. They got that bit right." Babs sat back, and looked up at the blue skies. She was silent for a minute. "Well, he's somewhere out there now. Shirley says the astral plane looks like different things to different toons. It's a kaleidoscope of harmonic colours to her – but to Plucky out on his own he'd see it differently."**

** "I wouldn't be amazed if to him it's something like Mega Wing Commander. That's what he's good at," Buster agreed "maybe right now he's looking out for runaway loons on the radar horizon, web foot jammed on the throttle and the afterburner locked full on – and he'll keep right on till the last drop of fuel runs out. That's Plucky for you." _If the fuel runs out … will he know about it?_ Buster's ears dipped at the unwanted thought. _Or will he just keep going forever? Green ghost riders in the astral sky?_**

** "We've got to do something." Babs fumed. "We can't just sit here and watch him fade away like last month's film posters." Her ears twisted in concentration. "But we can't go out to where he is. Shirley can't. Even her mother can't. So, who can?"**

** Buster struck a special-effects electric arc between his ears. "I've got it!"**

** "Show-off." Babs shielded her eyes from the blazing glare. "So, what's the bright idea?"**

** Buster grinned. "I've read Plucky's "Big Book of Conspiracy Theories" – remember that Colonel Fenix?"**

** "Of Unit Four Plus Two," Babs mused. "Yes! Specialising in Unthinkable Events. Shirley said he was a top gun hot-shot astral plane pilot. The book doesn't list his email, I take it."**

** "No. He's a very special kind of cop, even if he wears an army uniform. And how do you guarantee the cops will turn up?" Buster wriggled an eyebrow. "You rob a bank!"**

** "Hmm." Babs considered the issue. "It's direct, simple, and completely insane. I like it!"**

** "It'd have to be a very special kind of bank – in fact it won't really be a bank at all. It has to ring the right sort of alarms, though, to bring him and nobody else running" Buster cautioned. "And I have an idea of just how to go about it."**

** From the hospital grounds to Acme Looniversity would have taken half an hour on the bus, but in twenty seconds Babs and Buster emerged from a fresh tunnel entrance behind the Senior Wing of their alma mater. Professor Coyote had often speculated that toon rabbit burrows intrinsically dipped through short cuts in Hammerspace, which could have exits anywhere.**

** "So, Blue-boy – here we are back at the Looniversity – on a Saturday. It's all shut up! Nobody here!" Babs tapped sand out of her ears. "So what's the plan?"**

** Buster grinned. "You remember Professor Bugs' Actual Reality computer, down in the basement? I had a try or two on it before he caught me. I heard he stopped using it last year – too dangerous. But Pete Puma the janitor says it's still there. He's got the keys to the basement."**

** "Oh brilliant, oh blue-sky-between-the ears," Babs yawned. "The world's already up to its ears in word processors. What's so special about this one?"**

** "Because, Babs… it's not a word processor. It's a reality processor." Buster wiggled his eyebrows in Groucho Marx style. "When I generated a dinosaur film – the dinosaur almost escaped out of the screen before I pulled the plug. And we're not talking 3-D special effects, either."**

** "Hmm." Babs' ears dipped slightly in concentration, then went right up. "You're going to custom script a horror story and let it run loose on an unsuspecting Acme Acres? Buster, are you insane?"**

** "Well, like they say… round here we're all a little loony," Buster shrugged. "So let's hear your brilliant plan."**

** Babs hesitated, then nodded. "Hey! I guess if we destroy the Universe … at least we won't get in trouble for it." She spin-changed into a 1950's piano comedian and sang "_No-one will have the endurance/ to collect on his insurance / Lloyds of London will be loaded when they go_!"**

** "That's my Babsette... always looking on the bright side," Buster pointed towards the caretakers' house off to one corner of the Looniversity grounds. "Let's see if Pete's home."**

**Back at Babs' house, after visiting Plucky at the hospital Fifi and Rhubella had volunteered to help Mrs. Bunny with the mammoth task of looking after the household. Fortunately, fine Saturdays saw the burrow empty as the junior rabbits all headed out from underfoot to carefully compulsory sports and clubs. "_When you've 5 in a litter – think five-a-side teams!"_ Was how their mother had put it.**

** "Le phew!" Fifi staggered in with a pile of washing. "Twenty-six baby bunnies! And not-so baby zese days. Eet eez, ze 'are raising experience!"**

** Rhubella smiled, opening the door to the industrial-sized washing machine. "Well, it's different. This is something I should get used to."**

** "You 'ave nevair done ze laundry? I 'ave mostly just ze ribbon to wash, but I 'ad ozair dresses. Zey were in ze trunk of mon brave Cadillac." Fifi's ears drooped at the memory.**

** "We have people to do everything like that. And Perfecto teach you how to look after people." Rhubella loaded up the drum and studied the instructions.**

** "Ah! You look aftair zem. Zat is good." Fifi nodded, a little distracted as she pulled out a trolley of towels. All the Bunny family clothing was neatly embroidered with their names, which kept arguments to a minimum.**

** Unseen by her, Rhubella winced. "_Looking after_" menials meant very different things at Perfecto. She knew what Fifi would think about some of the teaching – how to get the maximum work out of some hard-working toon you were secretly planning to dismiss – and how to "_shed excess labour_" with no legal comeback. She closed the washing machine door and set the dial. "That's full – the rest will have to wait."**

** "Le sigh." Fifi looked at her, her eyes dreamy. "We 'ave named ze big day, we 'ave ze rings… nothing will stop us now, mon amour."**

** Rhubella kissed Fifi's broad pink nose. She took a clean-looking towel from the pile and wrapped it around the skunkette's head like a bridal veil. "You look good like this. This afternoon – the Giga Mall? Visit Wedding Peach for a dress or two? And … I want to make an appointment at a fur grooming place. To have a white back stripe so permanent it shows up on my model sheet."**

** Fifi's eyes crossed, her nose twitching. As Rhubella held her, her striped tail began to fume and bend sideways. "Mon Dieu! 'Zat idea ees 'aving... ze effect!"**

**Rhubella hugged. "Well – we'd better not scent out the laundry room – I don't think Mrs. Bunny would thank us for that. Not when we've a room of our own."**

**Fifi gave an almost feline purr. She pulled the towel around her muzzle coyly. "Zat is ze invitation I weel nevair refuse."**

**Some hours later Fifi sat bolt upright on her bed as her keen ears spotted the commotion of the burrow outside filling up again with Babs' siblings. "Sacre bleu! Eet ees already three of ze clock! Eet ees too late for ze Giga-Mall today … ze choosing of ze dresses ees not ze quick thing like ze Weenie-Burger."**

** Rhubella smiled, stroking the skunkette's lustrous expanse of tail. "We had much, much better things to do." She traced the junction between the white and purple fur. "Heh. Babs took twice as long to choose her dress as she'll probably ever wear it – and it's still only a "definite maybe" she says."**

** Fifi relaxed. "But we 'ave promised Mrs. Bunny to 'elp with ze laundry." She unwound the towel, looking for the embroidered name. "Zis will need ze extra soaking now."**

** "Better not tell the toons at Wedding Peach you look good enough for me in a towel," Rhubella laughed. "It'd break their hearts!"**

** Fifi nodded, examining the towel more closely. "Tres strange. All ze Bunny family zey 'ave ze name markings. 'Zis one 'e 'as none."**

** Rhubella raised an eyebrow. "They teach us about Evidence at Perfecto… mostly how to avoid leaving any." She picked out a white and a long jet black strand of fur. "This isn't from either of us… and I haven't noticed any of Babs' brothers and sisters with fur quite this shade or this long. They're all short head-furred toons like Babs. Who have we met here who isn't in the family, apart from us?"**

** "Mon Dieu," Fifi dropped the towel, her eyes wide. "I 'ave been breathing in ze male skunk pheromones all ze afternoon. And... eet 'as ze effect."**

** Rhubella gave a mock growl, cuddling her. "I noticed. I like the effect. It's not your fault, Fifi. Nobody knew. I think Shirley would say it's Karma."**

** Fifi hid her head in her paws. "I 'ave done eet again. My tail eet… 'as a mind of its own. Ze sight or ze scent of un skunk-'unk … and eet goes its own way."**

** Rhubella nodded. "I love your tail – I love both of you. I want both of you to be happy … very happy. Whatever it takes, Fifi." She cast an eye over the platoon-sized laundry basket. "If you want to break Mrs. Bunny's record for filing a house with cubs… we'll arrange it one way or another. I can afford to raise a football team or two. I could buy the stadium."**

** Fifi's eyes went wide, looking up at Rhubella. She smiled… then with a feral purr, pounced on her. It looked as if the rest of the laundry was just going to have to wait.**

**Back at Acme Looniversity, Babs and Buster were in the echoing basement looking up at the impressive console of the Reality Processor. Babs ran a pink finger along the top of the keyboard, and looked critically at the dust on it. "Buster – are you sure this thing still works?"**

** Buster shrugged. "Pete said Professor Bugs told him he wouldn't be using it any more – not that he couldn't." He paused. "There's probably a good reason."**

** "Hmm. There's probably a few good jokes about too many Bugs in the system, but right now I can't think of any." Babs hopped up on the operator's seat. "It's a bit more involved than my games console." She reached towards the big red power switch. "Still, let's fire it up."**

** "Whoa, Babs!" Buster's ears went up in alarm. "We've got to script-write this properly! We've got to work it so we get Unit Four Plus Two called in – and that's got to be something extreme. But if we go too far… instead they might decide to…"**

** Babs spin-changed without leaving her seat; a tricky manoeuvre that only a final-year comedy student could have achieved. She reappeared in a somewhat grimy set of space overalls. "Just dust off and nuke the place from orbit," she rasped "It's the only way to be sure." Changing back, she gazed contemplatively into her buck's eyes. "Hmm. You just might have a point there."**

** Buster pulled out a notebook. "I know it's a Saturday – but we've a plot and script writing test, right here and now. And if we flunk this one – Plucky might not have time for us to rewrite it."**

** Babs' ears drooped for a second. But then she braced her shoulders, a look of steely determination coming to her violet eyes. "Gotcha. One brilliant, academy award quality Disaster/Horror blockbuster coming right up!" A white cotton-tail wriggled, as a mischievous look grew on her face. "Just in case things do go too far or take too long – I mean Unit Four Plus Two might be off in Alaska hunting Yukon Yetis for all we know… better not have this go down in our own backyard. Somewhere a bit nearer Perfecto, Buster?"**

** "I like the way you think, Babsette." Buster kissed a pink nose. He picked up the pencil and began to write. "Act One, Scene one… summoned by the toxic aura of the place – a rift in space opens near Perfecto Prep… from somewhere the inhabitants do NOT have adorable toes."**

** "Mmm. So how about them having ten-foot claws? Or tentacles?" Babs looked down admiringly at her clean white rabbit feet. "Oh, what the Hay's Code. Let's do both!"**

** "Witnesses to the start of the whole sinister thing are a pair of heroic hares," Buster mused, as he scribbled notes. "Who the Authorities will certainly want to question."**

** "Spot on there, Blue-Boy!" Babs spun-changed into her cheerleading outfit. "Go, go, go! Write, Team Poe!"**

** "The ground cracks… great claws reach up hungrily at the living …. and are conveniently filmed emerging, the footage going out instantly on the Net to the Authorities," Buster scribbled faster. "A passing Japanese tourist screams "_our weapons are useless against their arcane technology!_" Toons flee in terror before they are engulfed and devoured in new and indescribable ways far too terrible to storyboard."**

** "Except for Danforth Drake, who is," Babs inserted smoothly. "In 3-D, close-up slow-motion."**

** "Except for D…" Buster broke off, and looked at her. "Babs!"**

** Babs grinned. "Sorreeee. Sometimes I just can't help myself."**

** Buster rolled his eyes in exasperation. "The crack in the film stabilises … giving time for the world's defenders to reply. But what will happen next? Only qualified service personnel may attempt to repair the break." He put down the pen, satisfied. "A good Saturday morning drama."**

** Babs shook her head. "Have you ever tried calling out a plumber at weekends?"**

** "Relax, Babs. This time we're writing the script. How bad can it be?" Buster paused, then his ears drooped. "On second thoughts, don't answer that."**

** Babs cast a critical eye over the notebook. "If you've always known this machine was here, why have we never used it before? We needed it a dozen times."**

** "Eeeh … '_With great power comes great responsibility_" – would you believe?" Buster quoted. **

** Babs shook her head. "Not for a second, Blue-boy."**

** Buster shrugged. "Okay. Professor Bugs told me if he ever caught me messing with it again, he's going to kick my cotton-tail clean out of Acme Loo. For keeps."**

** "Hmm. Then you'd better sit back and let me drive. With great power comes – great potential for comedy." Babs wriggled her eyebrows. "Anyway – if this goes wrong just think of the blooper reel."**

** "Are you sure you're qualified to operate heavy scripting machinery?" Buster looked up as Babs reached towards the power switch again. "Oh well. We know how the start of it goes." He put his blue paw on top of Babs' pink one on the switch, squeezing her fur gently. **

** "We'll do it together." Babs propped the script open on the console. "Act one, Scene One … a blasted heath just outside Perfecto Prep." She took a deep breath. "Let's take it from the top."**

** Two paws tensed, pulling the stiff red switch down with a heavy clank. Ancient radio valves began to glow deep in the heart of the machine, and mechanical relays clattered as the big screen lit up. The core of the computer retained its original World War Two technology, despite the flashy screen and nanotech go-faster stripes later generations had upgraded it with.**

** "It's Alive!" Two voices rose blended in manic glee, breaking into high-pitched hysterical laughter "IT'S ALIVE!"**

**Just at that moment, Shirley and Melicent McLoon were standing on a hilltop about a mile from their house, surrounded by arcane equipment. By a staggering coincidence, the baroque towers of Perfecto Prep rose against the skyline not far in the distance.**

** "First, dear, we must prepare and put ourselves in the right frame of mind." Melicent opened a sinister-looking casket, from which she unrolled a big tablecloth and the makings of a picnic. "This could take all day. Maybe all night too. We'd better not be distracted by hunger." She brushed her beehive hairstyle; mother and daughter had quite different styles, but both were fond of what Babs' fashion magazines called "_The Big Hair Look_."**

** Shirley looked at the gothic mahogany picnic hamper. "As in, I could eat a bite knowing poor Plucky's back there in the hospital with tubes going in him?" Embarrassingly, her stomach rumbled loudly, and a pang of acute hunger stabbed through her. "I totally hate this not being in charge of my own energies, deal."**

** "Welcome to the rest of the world, dear." Melicent raised an eyebrow. "And thinking of which – we have your favourite azuki bean tofu, yes. But you need something else as well."**

** Shirley's eyes went wide in horror at the sight of a large bowl of live freshwater clams. "Like, gah!"**

** Melicent sighed. She sat down in front of her daughter, and took both Shirley's feather-hands in her own, looking searchingly into Shirley's face. "If your body needed organic seaweed then that's what it'd tell you it had a craving for. And needs urgently. But it's not. Are you?"**

** Shirley winced. She recalled how watching Plucky eat a similar meal had turned her stomach not so long ago. The idea was still disgusting, but her stomach had changed its opinion. "That'd make such a mess of my Karma I'd come back next time as an oyster – settled next to a sewer outfall! How could I ever clean that off my record?"**

** "Shirley McLoon," Melicent said firmly, not relaxing her hold on her daughter's hands "I know you could do something a lot worse." She took a deep breath. "Your and Plucky's eggs need the calcium. Mammal girls can borrow it from their bones, but avian bones are hollow - we can't spare any for our eggs. In six weeks or so you'll be ready to lay your clutch. When they're ready, they'll let you know, believe me. What will happen then if the shells are too thin? Think about it. A lot."**

** Shirley's pupils contracted to pinpricks. "Like, ultimate nightmare," she whispered, and every vestige of colour drained from her already pale form. Briefly her stomach did revolt, but not at the thought or scent of the meal.**

** Melicent nodded. "And if you could have avoided that and still let it happen – how many incarnations would it take to clean that off your karma? Eat the clams, dear. Think of it as releasing them from their earthly bodies in a good cause, speeding up their progress to a higher form. Acme Lake is quite unpolluted, so I'm sure they were good pure-living molluscs." She released her daughter's hands, and winked. "I have a confession to make. I've always cooked tofu for you because you wanted it, but I hate the stuff. I'll eat this anyway." She emptied the entire bowl of organic azuki bean tofu onto her plate. "Now we shall both eat something we'd rather not."**

** Shirley sighed, and nodded. She picked up the bowl of living creatures, wondering what her aura would think of it_. If she were here to ask, I'd still be in total control of my bio energies... and this wouldn't be happening to me_. She grimaced, her biologically hard-to-explain teeth manifesting. _If she comes back to a totally carnivorous body and hates it like I would – that'd be cosmic justice_. She braced herself, closed her eyes and swallowed the first small clam whole, feeling it starting to fizz like a shaken-up Weenie Cola as the shell dissolved in her strong stomach acids. "Eaten alive! Mega gross!"**

** "All natural, unprocessed and totally fresh whole food," Melicent told her firmly. "In tune with your body's innermost harmonic needs. Think of it that way."**

** Shirley had never yet won an argument with her mother, and would have been the very last toon to ever suggest trying to win against one's own natural processes. She shut up and ate, still disturbed beyond measure at how her metabolism craved animal flesh and shell – and at how good it tasted. **

** Half an hour later, both loons finished up with uncontroversial free-range fruit grown in their organically gardened back yard, and relaxed. Eventually Melicent stood and stretched. "Time to get to work, dear. Hook up the electric pentacle and we'll make a start." She nodded at the high-tension line that crossed the clearing. "You didn't ask why I chose this spot, hmm?"**

** "Because it's like, some sacred site of totally harmonious ley line earth energies?" Shirley was still trying to salvage some shred of her old balance and certainties.**

** Her mother laughed. "Ley lines? No – but we've got a two hundred kilovolt main line going overhead and we're going to need to pull a lot of power out of it before anyone stops us!" She winked. "Sling this lead over the cable to the left, and jump over the insulators into the pentacle with me." She opened up one of the books borrowed from the restricted section of the MiskaToonic University. **

** Shirley could have levitated up as smoothly as an elevator the week before – but she had toned her throwing arm and eye with years of playing basketball and baseball at Acme Loo, and hooked the jumper lead on the cable second try. Leaping over the suddenly incandescent electric wardings of the pentacle, she stood next to her mother who immediately began to chant from the ancient texts.**

** Inside a minute, Melicent's expression altered. She shut the book, her eyes wide. "I've only just started opening the Pathways to Outside… but it's like they're opening themselves! As if someone else was doing the same thing right now focussed right on this spot!"**

** "That's mondo unlikely..." Shirley looked around, her eyes going wide as Toon space began to buckle. "What's the chance of that happening at the same place we're working that kind of spell? Right here, right now? It's like billions to one!"**

** Mother and daughter loons looked at each other. Both had years of training in Toon physics. There were special QuanToon Physics probability laws governing billions-to-one odds and how very often such odds were beaten. Their voices spoke as one, as a plot hole tore across the landscape far bigger and faster than anyone had planned.**

** "Uh-ohh…"**

(End Chapter Five)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Colonel Hal Fenix had already had a busy day by the time he got back to his office. The tall avian yawned, almost too tired to levitate his cap off his head across to the coat rack. "Fleet-admiral Tarfu just keeps running into things he shouldn't. He's been around the Pacific since World War Two – you'd think he'd have learned by now to stay clear of uncharted islands that mysteriously appear like that. Especially if you can see they're covered in impossibly ancient architecture where the angles don't add up the way you'd expect."**

** "Ummmm… yessir!" Schultz, his adjutant, nodded keenly. The small vulture came of a military family where being able to pull a snappy salute was about the limit of their strategic thinking. "Sir – the big red blinky thing is …" he scratched his head with a feather-hand. "Doing that thing it does."**

** "Blinking?" Hal squared his shoulders and crossed to the next room. Unit Four Plus Two was a special unit in many ways. It handled the kind of threat that never showed up on radar screens – in fact most of the entities it encountered did not show up on normal film, which was generally just as well. There was no security in radars and missiles against an attack that came in through your dreams.**

** Hal looked at his cross-eyed aide, and sighed. Putting imaginative, intelligent troops up against such things as Unit Four Plus Two usually met would just be like throwing them straight into the padded cell and slamming the door; the hideous revelations of the true nature of Toon space and time would do to their minds exactly what a sabot round from a 125mm tank gun did to a Faberge egg at under 90 metres range. Exhaustive and expensive testing had calibrated this to three decimal places.**

** "Yessir!" Schultz saluted again. His training sergeant had spent three years and the last of his sanity teaching him to get that right, and impressed on him the importance of making the most of it.**

** In the next room was a rack of equipment wired to racks of arcane equipment that detected trouble of a very specific kind. Exactly how it worked was a secret so highly classified that there was no military toon still serving who had the security clearance to open the lid and look. Next to it was another rack of shielded buttons with the clear warning in faded 1950's style lettering – "**_**Do not touch under any circumstances whatsoever**_**" which Hal had often thought as a fairly pointless thing to have. The detectors were certainly showing a Continuity Break in toon space and time – a Plot Hole that could potentially spread with results several times too hideous to ever comprehend.**

** "Hmm. "**_**PLODET Confirmed**_**" it says – Plot Device surface level detonation, continental USA. Azimuth, declination… what's that direction?" Hal looked at the high-tech display screen – shook his head and pulled out a compass, a road atlas and a piece of string which he lined up squinting out of the window. "Well, what do you know – general location, Acme Acres. actually a few miles past there towards the Looniversity." His eyebrow rose. "Mayhem and hilarity by tradition, but not mad science. It's not the MiskaToonic."**

** "Nossir!" Schultz took half a minute at full mental throttle trying to decide whether to salute again or not. A plume of steam rose from his feathered head as his brain was stressed to its limit.**

** Hal stood up, squaring his shoulders. "We'd better take a look. We'll take Corporal Kaolin and Montmorill, they can push Pvs. Clarke and Lewis. It'd be good for them to get some action. And better unlock Macree – we might need him." **

** "Sir!" Schultz caught the strait-jacket key and headed down towards the basement. He paused, scratching his head. "But sir – he eats people."**

** Hal smiled distantly. "Only when he's ordered to, these days. He just thinks of it as whole-food. Besides – have you tasted the official rations they've been issuing us lately?"**

* * *

><p><strong>Just as Hal and his force piled into their top-secret Government helicopters (bright orange and conspicuously labelled "<strong>_**Oodles of Poodles!" Emergency Poodle Express delivery service to the stars!**_**) Babs and Buster cautiously surveyed the results of their experiment with the Reality Processor from instant burrows half a mile away..**

** "Eeehh … there could be a reason Professor Bugs didn't want anyone messing with the ol' keyboard back there." Buster looked across the valley to where the scenery was getting increasingly … distorted. The effect was as if space was being crumpled and bent, and at its heart was a terrifying rip in reality that swayed and bobbed like a whirlwind anchored on one spot. There was motion dimly visible through the tear, as if something beyond was looking through into EinsToonian Space with interest and deciding whether or not to try the Toon cuisine..**

** "A reason. Who knew? Modern keyboards have backspace and delete keys on them." Babs shaded her eyes at the effect, although it was a mile and a half away. "That thing is giving me a headache just looking at it."**

** Buster leafed through the script. "I don't think we'll be able to just yell "cut" and end this scene. Better take another look at the Reality Processor – before Professor Bugs works out who done it."**

** "Check." Babs followed him as they crash-tunnelled back towards the Looniversity. "Buster – do we have a plan? Or are we just going to hit buttons randomly and hope it improves the situation?"**

** "We have a plan!" Buster struck a heroic pose, then scuffed his large rabbit foot in the dust in embarrassment. **

"**We do? Nice to hear, blue-boy." Babs looked at Buster's sweating face. "And that is?"**

"**Umm – hate to say it, but the plan is the "**_**press random buttons and hope**_**" one." Buster favoured her with an embarrassed grin.**

** A pink bunny cocked her head to one side. "Works for me." Babs shrugged. "What's the worst that can go wrong?"**

** "The total, absolute worst?" Buster queried, seeing Babs nod. "We could end up rupturing reality and all be cast out forever into the abyssal void beyond the script."**

** "Hmmm." Babs considered the matter. "But on the bright side – if that happens Professor Bugs wouldn't have the chance to expel us!"**

** Buster scratched his head. "They say the end of the Universe is never having to say you're sorry. Works for me too!" He opened the Looniversity basement door. "And now – let's start pressing some of those buttons."**

* * *

><p><strong>Over in Perfecto Prep, panic reigned. The plot disruption was only four hundred yards from their estate boundary, and it towered over the buildings like a black flame. Students were piling into stretch limos shouting instructions to get out of town, diving into the basements or calling their lawyers to complain.<strong>

** In the senior student lounge, there was a terrifyingly clear view through the panoramic windows looking out towards Acme Looniversity. One group had not run or hidden – they were dressed in their hastily donned ceremonial robes and stood around a small, solid-looking white marble table.**

** "We agree, then?" Roderick Rat's voice seethed in a cold fury. "We know who did this – the Acme Loo-sers. Caught on camera." The Perfecto security cameras included some with ten centimetre lenses; they had spotted motion nearby and zoomed in on Shirley and her mother hastily dismantling the Electric Pentacle, slinging sinister tomes into their packs and making a rapid exit.**

** "When we took these Seniors rings last year – I never expected to need these keys and the codes. They've never been used before." Margot Mallard looked at one of the large signet rings they all wore – there were only six in existence, and were handed to the ruling clique of each senior year. Margot, Roderick, Danforth, Hans and Luanne wore theirs – Rhubella had the other, but the system had been designed to function allowing for one casualty or traitor in the group. "Wouldn't it have been a better deterrent if we'd told the world we can do this?"**

** "Margot. Honestly." Danforth's beak curled as if the word had a bitter taste. "The Perfecto Storm I sent after them at Spring Break was the least of what we can do. There was nothing that could officially come back and bite me." He unconsciously rubbed his feathered rump; Babs and Buster had punted him on a sub-orbital flight while a Government agent who should have been hauling them off, stood by and grinned. "What we're going to let loose could ruin us if anyone traces it back – but it's too late for that."**

** "Revenge shot." Hans von Haflinger snarled. "Like a trapped submarine – we're not going down with our weapons unfired. We'll get them even if it takes us out with it. Nuclear round at point-blank range."**

** Margot rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You've been reading way too many Cold War thrillers. We're going to fire lies and lawsuits, not torpedoes." She wished Rhubella was around to give her side of the story – it certainly looked as if she had gone over to Acme Loo wholeheartedly and wanted to eliminate their competition. With a twinge she remembered what Rhubella had told her about falling for the skunk girl. She had laughed it off as "Maskirovka", the sort of deliberate misinformation they were taught in Dirty Tricks class; for every real Perfecto project there were half a dozen decoys set in motion. Could it possibly be the truth?**

** "We can still ruin them, whether or not we're around to see it. Vengeance!" Roderick pressed his ring into a carving on the rim of the white table. "Margot? Are you with us? We need five keys."**

** Margot hesitated. But then she cast a glimpse at what was outside. It certainly looked as if Rhubella really had a secret plan – and looking at the results, Margot could understand why the rat had kept it secret from her. Erasing Perfecto from the map before she graduated was a whole different story. "I'm in." With that she pressed her ring against the slot in the table, where the other four had already put theirs.**

** As its staff and students constantly reassured each other, at Perfecto they had style. The white marble tabletop had appeared solid, but as five Senior's rings engaged the centre smoothly rose to reveal a control panel.**

** Roderick glanced out of the window at the flickering rent in Toon space. "Hans is right, Margot. It's time to throw everything we've got at them and run. Target, Looniversity – committing!" His paws flew over the keys as a virtual paintbrush made Acme Looniversity look like a place the pirates of Old Tortuga would have turned their noses up from in disgust. "There! Everything uploaded to servers in KazhaksToon and Outer Hinterland – whatever happens to this place now, it can't stop our revenge. Now – as those Acme low-lifes over there would say, let's make like a banana and split!"**

** The Seniors headed down to the basement, but not to cower in any shelter there. The secret of Perfecto was a pair of one-way Toon Holes that linked their basement with a site on the far side of the world in Eastern Molvania – handy for profitable smuggling, and as a last ditch bolt-hole it provided an instant getaway that was hard to beat. In the last emergency Acme portable holes could be inactivated to prevent anything following them through the rift, in the same way they always had to be rolled up for transport. Whatever toons said about the Perfecto students, they were never accused of doing things by halves.**

* * *

><p><strong>Several miles past the Looniversity and out of sight of the alarming developments at Perfecto, the city of Acme Acres was going about its regular business. No calls of alarm were heard on the streets or by its media; although Perfecto was evacuating they would not be spreading panic which might clog up the streets, airport or their other getaway routes. <strong>

** The Freleng Memorial Hospital was a tall grey stone and concrete building on the banks of the river, usually concerned with heads stuck in cooking pans, prising bear traps off hikers or retrieving bowling balls accidentally swallowed by hungry toons mistaking them for very hard watermelons. Though various laws of physics and biology protected most citizens from permanent harm in the cause of comic duty, accidents could happen. A toon who could walk away dazed from a ten tonne safe falling on them was still prone to non-comic injuries. And while sending out your astral form on a rescue mission with no regard for keeping your physical body ticking over was ironic, it was rarely regarded as funny by the hospital staff. Game shows such as "**_**That's Incredibly Stupid**_**" might have had another opinion.**

** On the top floor, Mary Melody was just leaving Plucky's hospital ward where she had spent the past two hours keeping vigil on the mallard's unoccupied body with Jaggi beside her. She paused, a worried expression sweeping over her. "Jaggi – did you think Plucky was looking – a bit well, faded? Especially just before we left?"**

** The tall zebra thought hard, then sighed. "I think he is. They warned us this might happen. When he went after Shirley's aura out there, he took every drop of fuel with him. Not even enough left behind to run a pilot light."**

** "Or burn a candle in the window to guide him home again." Mary did not have a tail or ears that could droop, but her expression gave the same effect. "I hope Shirley and her mother can come up with something quick – because he's running out of time."**

** Behind them was a gasp. They turned – Jaggi's ears were sharp as befitted an Action Adventure Toon, but someone had been keeping extremely still.**

** Maria Mandarin was a waterfowl like Shirley in that they both had golden-yellow head feathers, but there the resemblance ended. Her main feathers were a delicate light green, and her figure spoke of mammal relatives somewhere in her recent ancestry. Neither did she have Shirley's flashing gaze or haughty self-confidence – right now Maria's eyes were red-rimmed with tears. **

** "It's true? I'd heard the doctors can't do anything but watch him fade out." Maria looked towards the closed ward door. "Do you think they'd let me sit with him?"**

** "I think so. My parents work here. They've told me it can help a comatose Toon – though that's not what's wrong with Plucky." Mary remembered a scene from just before their Spring Break, with Maria and Plucky sitting outside the Looniversity cafeteria sharing a picnic on the sunlit grass. She remembered hearing Maria laugh at one of Plucky's jokes, and tried hard to recall if Shirley had ever done that in all their years at Looniversity. She did recall the few occasions where Shirley had worn formal gowns, they had been discreetly padded to hint at a shape the loon would never have. Pure-strain avians often got upset when that subject was raised, let alone the other very basic features they had inherited from reptile ancestors.**

** "I know it's not really him in there – just his flesh and feathers." Maria closed her eyes. "And I know he's gone out to try and bring Miss McLoon's powers back – even when he knew his chances of ever getting back weren't good. That's just like Plucky. He'll dare anything."**

** Mary and Jaggi exchanged glances. The pair had no trace of psychic ability, but they had come to know each other's thoughts quite well regardless. The thought they were sharing was something on the lines of **_**Plucky always wanted a girl to hero-worship him. He found one after all these years – just in time for Shirley to take him away…**_

** Mary cleared her throat. "I know everyone's doing all they can. But going after Plucky out there is something only a very few Toons can do – and none around here."**

** Maria squared her shoulders. "He gave me my self-confidence – he showed me there was nothing I couldn't try for. He even taught me to clog-dance! I haven't Miss McLoon's powers, but somewhere out there are toons who have. And the one thing I have is money." Her shoulders drooped. "I never told Plucky how much. I was afraid it might… put him off."**

** Mary and Jaggi exchanged another glance. Fate had meant these two green fowl to be together. Maria had the looks and the figure a pure-strain avian such as Shirley never would, she had the kind of wealth Plucky hungered after and although she had no unworldly powers, she would not have used them to scorch Plucky's tail feathers even if she had.**

** Maria took a deep breath. "I'll be in there by his side if they'll let me in – but I'll be busy phoning people who know people," she said. "There are talented toons out there. If anyone can bring him home, the money won't matter." She hesitated. "I know he's not coming back for me. But as long as he comes back – that's all that matters."**

** Mary and Jaggi watched as she entered the ward and started to talk with the nursing staff, before heading out. As the lift door closed leaving them alone, Mary let out the breath she suddenly realised she had been holding. **

** "When Shirley said her karma was at an all-time low for taking Plucky away from Maria – even though she knew what destiny had saved up for those two…" Mary pulled a face. "I know Shirley doesn't lie. But I thought she had to be exaggerating."**

** "She wasn't." Jaggi's ears were down as they walked out of the building hand in hoof. "But I don't see what we can do about it. If there's a jungle to be hacked through or a chandelier to be swung from, I'm up for that. Shojo anime plotlines aren't my thing."**

** "Me neither." Mary shook her head. "Apart from Shirley – trying to find a psychic explorer in Acme Acres feels like looking for a computer hacker in an Amish village." Inspired by that idea, she touched her cap and the teleprompter display swung down as she linked to the news channels. Suddenly she stopped. "Jaggi! There's something happening out Eastwards – past the Looniversity. Some kind of unearthly storm. People are phoning the Acme Gazette about it."**

** "They're not the only folk looking that way." For the past half minute Jaggi had heard the sound of helicopters. He pointed up to the four large orange painted transport helicopters that had emerged from behind the buildings. "It looks like a very well-equipped commercial company, this '**_**Oodles of Poodles'**_**, if that's who they really are." He paused, contemplating. In a Toon California, it was not impossible that film studios would suddenly need hundreds of poodles delivered by air to remote shooting locations with impossibly tight deadlines. "Hold on. I know that model of helicopter. Those are WhirlyBurd SK3s – the SK2 model is on sale to the civilian market but the SK3 isn't!"**

"**There goes the cavalry, then?" Mary blinked.**

"**I bet. But they're not going in waving the flags. This is someone smart and discreet – you can't hide up there but give them a dull enough cover story and people won't look twice at you." Jaggi shaded his eyes, his gaze following the formation.**

** "I think you're ready for the Action Toon Props 701 exam already." Mary hugged her mate fiercely, looking up at the helicopters. "They're heading that way, all right. Let's see what all the fuss is about."**

* * *

><p>"<strong>The last time anything went so out of control, it ended up sending property values plummeting across the whole of Atlantis," Melicent McLoon did not seem particularly alarmed as she sat on a knoll half a mile away from the rupture she had helped form. "And a little later, Atlantis went plummeting down to join them."<strong>

** Shirley was looking on in horror, her feathers ruffled. Right now she was glad to be without her aura; if the "totally heavy vibes" had been a sound they would be rattling her wishbone without needing to use her ears. She was sure that her aura could have seen far too much of what seemed to be clawing at the rupture from the other side. "Like, gah? What have we done?"**

** "Hmm." Melicent leafed through one of the ancient books. Any practitioner of high-energy sorcery who was easily rattled was soon an ex-practitioner, and probably a snack for something nineteen percent too indescribable to storyboard. "That's puzzling. We didn't do all that. Some of those effects aren't even in the book. It looks like something more high-tech is involved. If we knew who, it might help."**

** "And here's some more mondo eco-unfriendly high tech, noise and air pollution fer sure." Shirley pointed towards four bright orange helicopters that were heading straight towards them from the West. Her feathers drooped. "Bummer. We just wanted to ring an alarm bell and it's like we sent the world to Defcon One. I don't need my aura to predict that's Unit Four Plus Two arriving – and they are going to be like major un-harmonious when they find out what we've done to call them."**

** "Brace up, dear – because I can tell someone isn't going to wait for them to land to have a word with us about that." Melicent stood up, smoothing her feathers and brushing the dust off. **

** Precisely on cue, the air shimmered and the imposing golden aura of Hal Fenix stood before them. He raised an ethereal eyebrow, looking at the mother and daughter loons and then at the towering split in Toon space and time. Both loons felt themselves being discreetly scanned, then heard his thought in their heads.**

_**Miss McLoon – and Miss McLoon senior – I would normally say it's a pleasure to see you. But first – is there something you want to tell me about our little problem here?**_

** Shirley gulped. She stood up straight, and looked up at the phoenix. "This totally wasn't the way I'd planned it. It started like this …"**

* * *

><p><strong>By the time Jaggi drove up in the Most_terrain Vehicle he had borrowed from the Action Adventure props department, four helicopters had landed and their occupants were getting busy deploying mobile equipment. Unlike Acme Looniversity, it seemed that Unit Four Plus Two had the budget to run genuine All-terrain vehicles.<strong>

** "Hmm." Jaggi handed Mary Melody the binoculars as their advanced tricycle halted in cover, handlebars-down behind a convenient ridge two hundred yards away. "Who do we know who's tall, imposing, feathered and has a squad of buzzard troopers who'd have Concord Condor as their Intelligence Officer?"**

** "Colonel Fenix! We only met him that one time – but Babs and Shirley told me all about him." Mary shuddered as she looked towards the rift, then switched her gaze back to the tall phoenix who was animatedly talking with Shirley and her mother. "He's like a hospital consultant – they only call him in on special cases. Do you know what that – rip is?"**

** The zebra's darker parts went briefly pale. "I know the kind of thing. In Action Adventure class, when we see that kind of event we're given two options. Call in someone professional with fancy robes and high-power artefacts to look at it – or run."**

** "How far? We've plenty of fuel in the tank still." In her journalism classes Mary had often been told that a bold reporter was a successful one, but one who never survived to hand in her copy was not.**

** Jaggi's ears went down. "To safety? We'd need enough to take us to orbit. And with something like that we're recommended to head for orbit of a different planet entirely."**

** Mary took a deep breath. "Then we've nothing to lose in heading down and seeing if we can help. I expect the professionals' fancy robes have evolved into uniforms these days. The artefacts they'd bring along to tackle something like this – should be worth seeing in action."**

** "Right-o. Hang on." Jaggi fired up the engine of the Most_terrain vehicle, and they rolled over the ridgeline. In a minute they were making their re-introductions to Colonel Fenix, **

** "Well, now." Hal Fenix had joined his aura form, and was studying some instruments so Classified that they appeared as large blacked-out squares of film to the other toons. "Introductions are in order. That rift doesn't seem to be growing – and we won't need to call Immigration unless some of the folk from the far side come over to party." His beak flashed in an unexpected grin; like most toon birds he both had teeth and not, in a Schrödinger's Cat styled paradox. Whenever anyone actually looked for them, he had only a plain avian beak. He indicated two vacant-looking buzzards. "Corporals Kaolin and Montmorill, Miss Shirley met them at the coast I recall. This is Schultz, my adjutant – he makes the best cup of coffee in the entire Abnatural Forces unit."**

** The vulture nodded enthusiastically. "Umm, yessir! They didn't give me these fourth Lieutenant's bars for nuthin' !"**

** "Fourth Lieutenant? Is there such a rank?" Mary blinked, whispering to Jaggi "Isn't that about the level of second assistant dog-catcher in a one-horse town with no dog?"**

** "And this is Macree. I hope you'll excuse his lack of conversation – he has to stay focussed." Hal gestured towards a tall mink who was staring off into the distance, teeth bared and an expression of stark rage locked on his features. "Don't worry if he laughs or screams a bit. It's entirely normal for him since the accident. And he never does it when we need to keep quiet. The other two, Pvs. Clarke and Lewis – their bodies can stay in the heli. No point in bringing them out."**

** "Bodies?" Jaggi queried "You've taken casualties already?"**

** Hal raised an eyebrow, and gave an equivocal gesture with his feather-hand. "Yes and no. Their injuries happened quite awhile ago. They're still active team members, in their way."**

** "There are two presences here you might not see." Melicent McLoon put in, "their bodies are alive, but shut down. Perhaps permanently." She closed her eyes and spoke a word in a language that was ancient when Gertie the trained dinosaur was a young toon, and two glowing figures materialised. One was a long-furred hound of the retriever type, and the other a wild goose. Both seemed slightly embarrassed at being rendered visible, as if caught in the shower unexpectedly.**

** "You mean they're – like Plucky is now?" Mary queried.**

** "In a way. If they headed out too far away from their bodies they would be, soon enough. Which is why we have to bring them along." Hal nodded towards the helicopters. "Pvs. Isn't short for "Privates", by the way."**

** "I know what it stands for." Mary Melody would have had great difficulty turning pale, but she tried. "Persistent Vegetative State. Coma. My parents are in the medical profession."**

** The glowing goose shape held up a sign in neon ectoplasm reading "**_**being declared brain-dead won't get you out of this unit!"**_** His translucent feathers ruffled as he pointed at the two buzzards, before the sign updated to "**_**And they're corporals! They got promoted. We didn't, and we've been here years longer.**_**"**

** Hal looked slightly embarrassed. "Private Clarke Gander has a point, I'm afraid. I've put him in for promotion twice a year, but Army regulations say he has to sign the papers to get any. That's red tape for you. He was a psychic when he joined, and since the accident – he's got far more powerful. It's like a blind toon developing better hearing."**

** "Or one born with no morals, having to go into politics." Mary nodded. **

** "Sad but true. The one psychic talent he hasn't got yet is telekinesis, or he could sign the forms even the way he is. And now – let's cut to the chase. Clarke! Lewis! You get on the other etheric trail of what caused this – the one that doesn't lead to the McLoon family. We'll need all the threads if we're going to untangle this." Hal waved the slavering mink forwards. "Macree! You follow on the ground. Find and hold, like last time. But this time, don't eat anyone. Got that?"**

** The mink saluted smartly, threw his head back and howled with peals of manic laughter, before heading off at a lope over the horizon following the two glowing shapes.**

** "Don't be alarmed. It's just something he does." Hal winked. **

** "I think the phrase is "**_**thank god he's on our side**_**"" Jaggi lowered an ear.**

** "Like, the only deity you'd thank for that one is Kali, destroyer of worlds." Shirley shivered. "Or one of those way uncool Aztec ones that like toon sacrifices for lunch. Mondo bad vibes!"**

** Hal studied his finger-feathers. "Thinking of which – you made a fair stab at the Kali world-destroying profession yourself. Now, I know why you did it but – I've been up thirty hours already and I could have done without this right now!"**

** Shirley looked abashed, a rare sight on the loon. "I'm mondo sorry. But – can you help? You're like our last hope?"**

** "Hers and Plucky's both." Mary put in. "He's fading out. Fast."**

** "And I can tell from here why that's even more important than it might be. Congratulations on the happy news, Miss Shirley." Hal nodded towards her. "Nobody should have to sit on a clutch of eggs all on her own. We'll do what we can to bring Mister Plucky Duck back for you."**

** "But if you don't get Plucky back there won't be any eggs to…" Mary broke off, seeing Shirley's furious blush, her finger-hands instinctively lowered protectively to her midriff. Mary's brown eyes went wide in surprise. "Shirley? You're …"**

** The loon nodded, for a few seconds embarrassed beyond words. "Umm, I'll just say it was karma, and it was meant to be, 'kay?"**

** "That and the fact that when my daughter lost her powers, controlling her biological energies went too." Melicent winked. "And – getting four hot meals of duck a day, is sure to spoil anyone's girlish figure. Especially since battery hens only get one sort of exercise."**

** "Mother!" Shirley's beak opened wide in outrage.**

** "And soon-to-be grandmother, thanks to you." Melicent looked quite pleased at the prospect. "Now - I believe you had a proposition that might make the good Colonel here a little less annoyed?"**

** "The younger Miss McLoon is thinking that today is really not her day." Hal looked up at the sky innocently. "Yes, if she regains her powers, after graduation I'd be pleased to offer her a job. And no, the regular ten initial weeks of military boot-camp, pack-drill and parade ground training will not be required before starting with my rather special unit. For which I don't need to scan her again to know she's supremely grateful."**

** "I couldn't see Shirley in the uniform, myself," Jaggi commented, trying to keep a straight face. "I suppose you could do a natural fabric tie-dye in earth tones and call it camouflage, though."**

** Mary frowned. "Remember when we first met on Spring Break? Plucky was plain dead against the idea of Shirley joining up. But if this doesn't work then he'll be … plain dead."**

** Shirley's already pale form turned even paler. "I've never, like, begged anyone for anything, 'kay? My aura was totally against me writing spiritual blank cheques. Now she's gone and I've nothing else to offer. Bring him home and you've forever got mine." She bowed her head. "It totally lags that I can't do anything I was hatched to do, any more. I'd do it to orders, just as long as I can do it with Plucky around."**

** Hal gestured towards the flickering rift in reality. "We'll see what the bill for fixing that is, before I take that cheque." The phoenix gave a brief burst of a grin. "But then I'll go and look for two lost auras. After all – it's no good getting the computer and not the transformer or the power supply it likes to plug into."**

** "Yes, my daughter found out just this year just how to extract psychic energies from renewable green energy," Melicent's eyes sparkled with mischievous light. "Green mallard, that is. As I believe a friend of hers said, '**_**it takes two to Tantric**_**.' Generally it's the plug that draws energy from the socket, but in her case…"**

** "Mother!" Shirley squawked in outrage, her feather-hands pressed over her ear holes.**

** "I see why Shirley never talked much about her mother," Mary whispered. "If you can get power out of embarrassing toons– there's enough around here to light up Acme Acres."**

** "Well." Hal closed his eyes and concentrated. "Macree is asking "are bunnies yummy"? So I think he's found some in the line of duty." He concentrated. "I spy with my inner eye, something beginning with Babs."**

**Mary looked over at Shirley. "Oh, my. You don't suppose Babs had one of her bright ideas again?"**

"**Something that would have the same effect as what we planned, set to go off at exactly the same time and place we were working, of all the places she could have chosen" Melicent mused, "If she did - under the Third Law of ToonoDynamics – anything totally improbable will certainly happen…" **

** "And exactly when least convenient," Hal completed the classic EinsToon formula. "Seems likely. Now – the question is – just what did they do?"**

* * *

><p><strong>Back at the Looniversity, Babs looked up from the big keyboard she had been trying to play the "chopsticks" tune on, and glanced out of the basement window. "Buster? Is there a Freddy Cougar movie with a slavering mink in commando uniform and two ghosts flying air support?"<strong>

** Buster considered deeply. "Not that I ever saw, Babs. And at Plucky's place I probably saw half the horror films ever made."**

** Babs took a deep breath. "Then if it's not in the movie catalogue they're shooting it outside live, right now." She frowned, her ears crossing in concentration as she riffled through the paw-written script. "Hmm. Not from our script, either."**

** "Yikes!" Buster spotted the rapidly approaching trio; Macree was not as big as Gene Wolverine or as fast as Dizzy Devil but he seemed to share the same outlook on the world, which mostly involved devouring. Keeping in formation above him were two faintly glowing figures that looked nothing like Christmas card angels; one was a canine and the other a goose gliding on outstretched ethereal wings. "If only this keyboard had a joystick and cursor and an "erase" button."**

** Babs spun-changed into a buckskin breeches-wearing pioneer, with raccoon fur hat and a comedy prop musket. "We shall defend our Looniversity!" She declared. "Remember the … remember the …" She broke off, scratching her head. "Buster – what was that place down in Texas?"**

** "The door's locked – and this place is built solid. It might take them awhile to get in here." Buster pulled out a Toon mallet. "And there's other rooms with no windows next door that are stronger – Pete never said what they were used for."**

** Babs put on a heavy Southern accent. "Ah reckons all kinda debasement – in de basement." She spun-changed back again to her regular costume, mallet in paw. **

** "Serious, Babsette – these walls are thick but I don't think that means they're …" He broke off as the canine and the goose glided straight through stone and concrete to tower over the bunnies with stern expressions on their glowing forms.**

** "Ghost-proof," Babs finished, grinning embarrassedly. "Heh. Who knew?"**

** Buster's ears went up as a third glowing shape appeared in the room, a taller and more imposing avian that he recognised. The blue rabbit took Babs' paw in his gloved one; Babs squeezed it reassuringly. "Colonel Fenix, I presume? This is all my fault, not Babs'. We had to get you here., and this was the only way we could think of. We wanted to light a kinda signal fire – we didn't mean to burn the forest down with it."**

** "Ooooh," Babs looked on appreciatively as the phoenix's astral shape briefly changed into another instantly recognisable one, armed with a fire broom and a stern expression. "I could spin-change and do the Smokey the Bear ™ ranger uniform, no problem, but I couldn't do the species change like that!"**

** Buster watched as words formed on the display screen in front of him, in 20 point Ectoplasm font. "Tell me exactly what you did, in sequence," he read out "and then we'll try and work back. After that – we'll talk about a certain duck."**

** "He must know about what's happened to Plucky," Babs nodded, impressed. "Say what you like about him – and it's probably true - he's one certain duck. Right or wrong – I never saw him have an uncertain moment."**

* * *

><p><strong>Back within sight of Ground Zero of the Plot Device, Hal Fenix twitched slightly as his aura recoiled into position along his astral cord as if it was stretched elastic snapping back. "I have it," he announced. "This will take some time to resolve. I may need to call on you for support, especially Miss McLoon Senior. Once I start playing with this rift, I'll need all my concentration." He took a deep breath, and sat in the lotus position. Though Shirley spent much of her time that way, it seemed odd to see someone in a Bird Colonel uniform doing that.<strong>

** Just at that moment, Mary's phone rang. She grabbed it and pressed it to her ear – and her expression froze. "Shirley! It's the hospital – they say Plucky's fading. You can see right through him!"**

** Shirley's knees buckled under her. She knew how long even the briefest search of the astral plane was liable to take, and time for her mallard had almost run out. She took a deep breath, but Hal Fenix held up his feather-hand.**

** "I know. I can't get him back in time." Hal paused. "There's only one thing I can try to stop him fading out. Even if it works you won't like it, though. Miss Shirley McLoon, have you got that blank cheque ready to sign?"**

** Shirley nodded. "Like, take it. Take it, quick! It's yours."**

** "You got it. Welcome aboard, recruit McLoon. We always do what we can for our troops" Hal pulled out a jotting pad and scribbled a quick note to it, before handing it to the small vulture who ran off towards the parked helicopters. Inside a minute one of them started engines, lifted off and headed out at full throttle towards Acme Acres, the noise rattling the toons' teeth. "No matter how badly this turns out – remember I told you so." He concentrated on the rift, which was towering above him like a leaning column of smoke. "No more distractions now. I've got a Plot Hole to fix."**

* * *

><p><strong>At the Freleng Memorial Hospital, the blinds were drawn in one room as two toons stood vigil.<strong>

** "Mrs. Melody? I've phoned every psychic agency in the country – there's nobody who can get here in the next three hours." Maria Mandarin shut her phone with a final-sounding click. "Even if they could – Plucky left nothing of himself behind with his body. For someone who didn't know him already it'd be like a hunting dog trying to track a scent when there's no scent trail to start with."**

** Like her daughter, Mrs. Mona Melody was a powerfully-built dark-skinned human toon with a naturally cheerful disposition that was currently on hold. "This is the hardest part of this job, dear, when you know there's nothing you can do but hope."**

** Maria looked down. Plucky's shape was there, but she could see the pillow and white sheets plainly through him. "There's nothing else we can do?"**

** "Nothing but hope. We've removed the feeds – they couldn't give his body what it needs. A toon can live through almost any physical damage as long as there's a character form in there to give it shape – and restore the shape no matter what happens to it. That's what he needs." Mrs. Melody shook her head. "We've contacted his fiancée, but she can't get back here in time." She paused, looking at Maria. "Would you like to stay with him?"**

** Maria nodded. "I would. Somehow I had a feeling that I was meant to be with him. If this is all I can do – I'll do this."**

** "I'll be outside. Call me if anything happens." Mrs. Melody stood, smoothing down her Senior Nurse's uniform. **

** Maria knelt at the bedside, hardly hearing as the door closed. For ten minutes she looked at the pale, fading form, seeing even the sheets beginning to flatten out as his chromoplasm lost solidity. In the background, she barely registered the sound of a helicopter clattering overhead and landing somewhere nearby – probably a rescue flight, one part of her brain registered.**

** "Plucky," she offered up her prayer "please – wherever you are out there – please come back to me."**

** On the bed, the pale shape continued to fade. The sheets settled a little as what they covered lost a little more substance. When the sheets met, it would be all over.**

** Suddenly, something happened. The almost transparent shape gave a twitch – and it was as if ink was being poured into a mostly deflated transparent mould; dark green for the main body, yellowish for the feet and bill. The sheets began to rise as the material form gained substance.**

** "Mrs. Melody! Quick! He's coming back!" Maria shouted. Both Mary's parents came bursting through the door, and halted in astonishment.**

** "It does look like it." Dr. Marcus Melody scratched his head, looking on in wonderment. "We said, there was nothing wrong with his body provided someone was in it. Wherever Mister Duck's been – looks like he's back."**

** The dark green duck opened his eyes. "Where am I?" The first thing he saw was Maria bending over him – and then she kissed him, their beaks pressing tight and her pale green finger-feathers around him in a hug. Plucky's body went rigid in a well-practiced Avery 104 Wild take – then relaxed. "Wow."**

** "I think we'd best leave them be, hon," Mrs. Melody whispered to her husband, as she saw Maria's tail feathers starting to twitch. Her brow furrowed for a second as she thought hard and acidly. **_**That so-called fiancée of his – she's the one that caused all the trouble in the first place. Another few frames and he'd have been gone forever. And where was she when Plucky most needed her? "**_**Miss Mandarin deserves this. In my professional opinion - Shirley does not."**

** "I agree. I was worried if he found out Miss McLoon's aura was still missing – he'd go right back out there. But I don't think anyone would fade away when there's a girl like that to hold onto." Marcus winked at her. "We'll wait awhile before we examine him – but as long as his energy shape's back in there refreshing his chromoplasm twenty-four times a second – I'm not worried." With that they quietly left, and closed the door behind them.**

**An hour later, Maria kissed a green mallard on the beak. She looked down, blushing. "I'm sorry, Plucky. Sorry to rush you that way. I … I always wanted this. And when I thought I'd lost you – I thought it could never happen. Then when you came back I... I lost control."**

** "That's all right. I'm sorry too – but not the same way." The mallard kissed her. "You're a beautiful bird. I wish I'd had time to explain but – this is a healthy and well-rested body. It responded before I'd got in full control." He pinched his biceps, frowning slightly. "Even if it is a little shorter and scrawnier than I'm used to. Still – it works. The first time in so long I've been able to even feel myself breathing. And it's better than the alternatives for him and me."**

** Maria blinked. "Plucky?"**

** Toon avian teeth bared in an embarrassed grin, and the mallard examined himself in the mirror, smoothing his feathers down. "The good news is, Plucky Duck's body is alive and well – which it wouldn't be otherwise, by now. I'm keeping it warm for him. The bad news is – I'm not him."**

** Just then the telephone rang. The mallard picked it up, and stiffened as he recognised the voice. "Yes Sir, Colonel Fenix Sir! Private Clarke Gander at the hospital reporting for duty – though I may need a different size of uniform than I used to." He hesitated as he turned around to look at Maria Mandarin. "And sir – I have to report that – I've not been in this body for an hour but there are already – complications."**

** End Chapter Six**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**As the sun went down on an eventful day, Babs and Buster met up with their friends at Shirley's house. The big gothic styled building was roomier than Babs' burrow (taking into account the room the Bunny family took up) or Buster's own. Besides, Shirley's mother had mentioned she had a few things they needed to know.**

** "You know, Buster – I generally hated lulls. But once in awhile – after a day like this, it's a relief to draw breath for a minute." As they walked up the hill towards the turreted building, Babs' ears drooped briefly. "Buster – you don't think I'm losing my energy?"**

** Buster grinned, squeezing her paw. "It's been a long day. Good thing it's Sunday, we've not had much chance to look at our exam notes! Since this morning we almost lost Plucky – and got him back. Well, kinda. We nearly got thrown out of Acme Loo by Professor Bugs, but we didn't. We almost tore script-time in half – but we fixed it." He hesitated. "Well, we got it fixed. Colonel Fenix told me he's going to have to sleep for a coupla days, before he can do anything but moan. He's all burned out. After all that – well, we could go down to the Acme corporation and earn some carrot-money field-testing rabbit traps, if you'd rather?"**

** "Uh-uh, blue-boy. A quick lull right now is OK by me." Babs shook her head. "We've bought Plucky some time, and got the best aura-tracking toon we can get, on his trail."**

** "Which he won't be able to head out along for days – thanks to us." Buster gave a guilty grin. "Eeh, remember when the plots used to be simple? When we took Plots and Ruses 101, I wondered what the 701 class would look like. Now we know." Buster knocked at the door. **

** Shirley opened it a minute later; Babs took a few seconds longer to realise why she had been surprised by the delay. A whole Shirley including a working aura would have known to the second when anyone was coming to meet her. A white cottontail drooped. **

** "Like, hi, Babs, Buster!" Shirley seemed cheerful, but her voice was tight with strain. "Glad you could make it."**

** "We picked these for you in the forest on the way," Buster offered her the covered basket he had been carrying. "Wild mushrooms."**

** "Wild?" Babs camped it up outrageously "Oooh, darling, they were simply furious!"**

** Shirley snickered. "Come on in. We're in the main room. Some new faces. I thought any military bunch would be full of the most totally uncool, inharmonious toons this side of Perfecto. But … mondo surprise!"**

** "Well, they are an Abnatural forces unit," Babs mused "amazingly enough - for the military they're a bit – Abnatural. Who knew? You might fit in with them after all." She spin-changed into a strange hybrid Storm-Hippie, compete with razor-edged peace-symbol shurikens and sinister mystical runic rank badges. "Hey, I only joined this morning and I'm a loon-tenant already!"**

** Buster's ears twitched. "You're really joining up after we graduate? I couldn't believe it when Babs told me."**

** Shirley's beak briefly twisted in a wry expression. "I'm having a lot of mega surprises dropped on me this season. A bum karma will do that."**

** They followed Shirley through the house to a big room with a bay window looking out over Mount Acme. One of the panes of glass was an oddly patterned circle of swirling shapes that seemed to shift when you took your eyes away from it, leaving an impression that the view had been something rather different than expected. Joss-sticks smouldered in elaborate holders and the walls were lined with bookshelves, packed volumes reaching right up to the ceiling.**

** "Mother keeps all the way heavy books in the third sub-basement, chained down and with a yard of special shielding around them," Shirley whispered "Oh, and don't look at the big window too long, or it'll like grab you and transport you to this funky Plateau of Leng place in Tibet. Otherwise it's mondo harmless."**

** In the room they waved to Mary and Jaggi, who were sitting on the Loon family's soft natural fibre sofas with Fifi and Rhubella. With them was Schultz, Unit Four Plus Two's vulture Fourth Lieutenant.**

** "And then we found out the villain really was the ghost of the old gold miner, his spirit disturbed when they built the new freeway over his grave," he was evidently finishing a tale. "That creepy guy we suspected, that Mister Kowalski with the rubber mask and the hologram projector was just a hologram fan who liked wearing rubber masks. It was in California, yup. Plenty of folks around like that. They got their own clubs and everything."**

** Mary waved back as Shirley entered with the bunnies. "Babs! Buster! We've been hearing some amazing stories from Mr. Schultz here. The things they do and the, things, they meet!"**

** Buster blinked. "I thought if you told people what you do you had to erase their memories – or just erase them, totally."**

** The small avian gave a chuckle. "Oh, nope. Don't never have to do that these days. We only gets called out to things folks won't never believe noways. So it don't make no nevermind what we say. Colonel Fenix, ayup, he's a clever one."**

** "Someone in that bunch ought to be," Babs whispered to Buster "Do you get the idea the rest of them are picked for being … 'ot-nay-oot-nay-ightbray' like they taught us in Pig Latin class?"**

** "Eeeh – could be. That or they recruit them from a "third-degree sanity burns" hospital ward," Buster whispered back.**

** Schultz might not have been qualified for MENSA but he could evidently lip-read. "It, um, comes with the territory. Sarge Macree he was in hospital awhile last year after what we found in Burbank, yup. Sixty-percent hearing loss in one ear, but they could mostly fix that. Eighty-two-percent sanity loss in both brain hemispheres, they couldn't fix that nohow. The Colonel, he's got one of them paperweights, says "**_**you don't have to be mad to join us – that comes later**_**". Reckon he's right, ah does."**

** Mary cast a worried glance over at Shirley. "And you're going to be out doing that for a living? You might be safer dodging safes and anvils with the rest of us."**

** Shirley shrugged. "I'm not worth a busted dream catcher to Colonel Fenix without my aura, you know? And he promised to go out and look for her. And Plucky too. He's met us both, that's the way crucial thing – he can track our auras. One of Colonel Fenix's toons is like house-sitting in Plucky's body. That's bought us time."**

** "Yes, dear. That's rather what I wanted to talk to you all about." They all turned to see Melicent McLoon standing in the doorway leading into the kitchen, a tray laden with steaming cups in her feather-hands.**

** "Mrs McLoon? Shirley said this Clarke Gander can … take shifts in his real body, stop them both fading, as long as he needs to?" Rhubella put her paw up as if she was still in class.**

** "It's Miss McLoon here too, dear," Melicent winked. "Yes, from what I saw of his aura Mister Gander has enough power to keep a whole flock of bodies running. Which is part of the problem."**

** "There just 'ad to be ze twist," Fifi whispered. Rhubella squeezed her paw reassuringly.**

** "Yes, dear. Can you work it out? Imagine if this was one of Professor Coyote's Toon Physics tests." Melicent put the tray down "Dear Wile-E and I, we were students together, so long ago. He would insist on depending on such crude physical traps though – I could have taught him a "Summon Road Runner" spell, had he listened. He wouldn't have wasted so much money and effort buying rubbish from ACME."**

** "Hmm." Babs' ears crossed in concentration. "Start from first principles, he'd always say. A toon's body gets its shape from being refreshed twenty-four times a second from the notion inside it – with Plucky taking everything he had off on loon-quest, his body started to fade. But now there's someone keeping it warm."**

** "Uh-oh. Babsette, remember when you lent Mary your shirt in the second year? It came back all stretched-out. It never fitted again, you said." Buster's ears went down. "There's someone else wearing those green duck feathers now."**

** "That shirt fits me fine now… Mary was an early developer," Babs ran a paw unconsciously along her chest. Then her ears went right up. "Buster! You mean – if this Clarke Gander stays too long in Plucky's body he'll change it into a goose? But if he leaves it empty – it'll fade out."**

** "Gone like yesterday's rainbow, fer sure." Shirley's feathers drooped.**

** "Bleeped if you do, bleeped if you don't, looks like" Buster agreed.**

** "Quite so. And I'm afraid it's rather worse even than that." Melicent McLoon sat down on a spare seat, offering cups of herbal tea around. "It'd normally take days or weeks for that to happen, to the point it became irreversible. Hopefully enough time for the good Colonel to track down an errant aura or two. But what happens when someone drops a safe or an anvil on a toon?"**

** "Ze body re-forms immediate, re-shaped aftair ze energy pattern of ze Toon inside it," Fifi replied promptly. Suddenly her eyes went wide. "Sacre bleu! You mean – any kind of ze accidents zat Plucky 'ad ten times ze day at school and eet is 'allo goose, forever adieu green duck?"**

** Rhubella's tail twitched nervously. "You'll probably say this is a Perfecto point of view," she said in a low voice "We'd just call it realistic. You've got a toon who's not had a working body in maybe years, and now he's got one. Possession is nine tenths of the law, they taught us in Profit Pursuit class. You're assuming he'd want to quit when Plucky came back. Why would he ever want go back to a body that's just a weenie-burger in a freezer? What could you possibly offer this Clarke Gander to leave that's more valuable than what he's got right now? He could be deliberately stepping in front of a speeding lorry right this minute meaning to make things permanent – and I'll bet he knows how to make things look like an accident, too."**

** "Uh-oh, with running spikes on," Mary did her best to turn pale. "If he wanted to do that there's no way to stop him, either. Colonel Fenix might order him out of that body – but he can refuse and quit the military with all that back-pay he's never managed to spend now he can sign the forms, and let his old body fade out. It's not much use to him, I mean. Then when Plucky comes home from the astral plane – it's like finding squatters got in when you were away and changed all the locks. He'd never get back in."**

** The toons looked at each other. Ears and tails drooped.**

** "Well, out of the frying pan's always good – at least it's not into the fire, yet. It's into the rice cooker, on a slower heat at least," Babs mused. "That green feathered duck shaped body is alive and breathing, which it wouldn't be on its own. Still – even so, if Plucky can't get back soon his goose will be cooked – by a goose."**

* * *

><p><strong>Just at that minute in the grounds of Acme hospital, two green waterfowl were taking advantage of the warm evening sunlight. There was a shallow beach where they had been swimming for an hour, and a smooth grassy lawn now partly occupied by a large picnic basket.<strong>

** "This is what you miss." Clarke Gander stretched out both feathered arms, shaking himself dry and watching the sunlight make a rainbow through the scattering drops. "Everything! The feel of the sunshine, the feel of the grass – the smell and taste of food – oh yes." He had been examined by the doctors and released from their care; while Colonel Fenix was recuperating Unit Four Plus Two had collectively been given a two-day leave.**

** "They fed you with tubes, while you were out. Plucky's body, I mean." Maria Mandarin relaxed, dressed in a borrowed hospital bathing gown. Unlike most avians she could not walk around in her bare feathers. She had expected to feel extremely uncomfortable at this stranger in Plucky's feathers. The light-green fowl blushed, recalling how she had welcomed him back to the land of the living. And yet – true enough, this was not the mallard she had started to fall in love with, yet it was the one who had saved his life. There was nothing wrong with being grateful, she told herself. More than that; Clarke was saving it every second, like an ocean pilot steering an abandoned vessel between rocks in a storm. She looked up at him. Somehow he seemed taller, or perhaps it was just the way he held himself. "I don't expect being drip-fed left you feeling very satisfied. What are you going to do – now you have the chance?"**

** Clarke gave a twitch of a smile. "No globe-trotting holidays. I have to stay close enough to that goose carcass to touch base every now and then." He laughed. "Maybe I'll head back there to sleep tonight! It's the one thing it's good for."**

** Maria nodded. She drew a little closer. **_**It's not as if Miss Shirley has anything to complain about**_**, she told herself **_**after all – this isn't Plucky. If it was – he'd be in trouble when she found out**_**. She smiled. "Would you like to see Acme Acres? It's a nice place. I can show you around, if you like."**

** Clarke rose, and bowed. "That's an offer – I've no intention of refusing."**

**Later on that evening, the two mallards were walking through the brightly lit streets of Acme Acres after a whirl of shows and restaurants. As Clarke said, he had a shiny new promotion and three years of back-dated pay as well – and no idea how much time he had walking around to spend it.**

** "Astral forms are good to have separate – I do my job even if my body doesn't move," Clarke had confided "But you can't sit in a movie theatre and taste the popcorn."**

** Maria put her feather-hand in his as they looked up at the night sky. "Are you staying at Plucky's place, now the hospital's released you?"**

** Clarke gave an embarrassed grin. "I have no idea where that is." He tapped his green-feathered head. "It's not as if I stepped into furnished apartments here. He took everything with him – it's like I walked into a room where there's only the bare floorboards and plaster. Not even a doorknob or a light-bulb left in the place."**

** Maria blinked. "You don't have any of his memories? Not at all?" Her eyes went wide.**

** A green mallard gave an embarrassed shrug. "Not a scrap. What's he like? I take it you're his girlfriend – though neither of us are wearing engagement rings."**

** Maria hesitated, her thoughts in turmoil. **_**If I said yes, doing this I'd be cheating on Plucky. If it was true. If I say no, that'd be embarrassing too, after the "wake-up call" I gave him**_**. "Oh wow. I always – hoped to be. But we never got beyond being friends." **_**If he doesn't ask about Miss McLoon, I don't see that he has – what would a soldier call it? Need-to-know. Anyway, where was she when Plucky needed her?**_

** Clarke smiled. "I'm glad to hear it, in a way. There might be less complications than I feared. Now – it's late. I'll get a taxi home for you, then find a hotel somewhere around here for tonight. I'm not poor."**

** "You! Duck!" A voice echoed in an alleyway behind them. The two avians turned to see three large canines, dressed in starter jackets with a discreet black "P" on the chest. "Yeah you – we know you. You were at the beach back in Spring Break with the rest of the Acme Loo-sers. Hand over your cash and we might forget we saw you." The Perfecto "Sports Scholars" had been abandoned without a thought when Perfecto was evacuated; executive jet seats to safety in the Seychelles were expensive and they were evidently not. Discovering this had left them with nowhere to go and in a towering rage.**

** Clarke looked up at the three towering figures. "I think you might have got the wrong duck, friends. That wasn't me."**

** "Oh yeah? Wayne and Clint here saw you too. You can't pull the "loss of memory" trick around here. Hand it all over and we won't get too rough."**

** "Not what we call too rough. Not to you." Wayne leered. "To the little lady we'll be just fine. Hey, Chuck, sure looks like some of her folks were into furred guys away back – won't be nothin' new to her then."**

** Clarke smiled, walking towards them. He shook his head. "That, friends, was the wrong thing to say to the lady. But if you want what I've got – here it is." He concentrated briefly. For a few seconds the street lights dimmed all across town – then as he extended a feather-arm to point at the three canines. "**_**Power Word – FRICCASEE!"**_** There was a brilliant flash. Three piles of smoking ash with toon eyeballs blinking on top were all that were left – that and their shadows burned onto the calcined alley wall which was cooling from red heat. The smoke from burning litter filled the air.**

** Clarke blew on his glowing feather-finger meditatively. "When I said you had got the wrong duck, I meant boy, have you really got the wrong duck. Have a nice regeneration." He sketched a mocking salute, and turned to Maria. "Shall we go?"**

** Maria's eyes went wide. "I saw Miss McLoon do that to Plucky so often, when he didn't really deserve it, and couldn't have hit back if he wanted to." She paused. "But … if you can do that – in Plucky's body … does it mean he might have had powers of his own? It's not just anyone who can head out across the astral plane, even if they were brave enough to try."**

** Clarke tapped a green feathered head thoughtfully. "I can't tell just what he had. But I know he had plenty of something, by the room it took up in here." He laughed. "He either had latent powers or an ego the size of a planet!"**

** Maria squirmed uncomfortably. "People said that a lot about his ego. I didn't believe it. There was just … nothing he didn't think he couldn't do." She sighed. "Somehow it all went wrong between us. I don't know what I did wrong. Even if your Colonel gets him back – he's not coming back for me." Seized with an impulse, she kissed Clarke. **_**This might be the nearest to Plucky I'll ever get.**__**He's keeping Plucky's body alive and he saved me too,**_** she told herself. "Clarke – if you can find that taxi – let's go home. You won't need a hotel."**

** Clarke kissed her back. "That's another offer I've no intention of refusing."**

* * *

><p><strong>As the moon sank on Acme Acres, four figures halted at the entrance to Babs' burrow. The summer flowers were blossoming, and the scents mingled sweetly in the still night air.<strong>

** "Well, goodnight, Babs." Buster had escorted her home from Shirley's as he always did. "Back to studying tomorrow! Only good thing is, we don't have to be up early – just so we put the hours in. Time to hit the hay."**

** Babs spin-changed into a Mae West form and posed seductively. "Why don't you come down some time – see me?" Her ear pointed to her burrow invitingly. "Everyone else will be fast asleep. Burrow walls are solid, soundproof earth and concrete. We can get in some… practice for the bunnymoon."**

** Buster grinned. "What, and break their hearts at Wedding Peach? They worked so hard on that fine white wedding dress you've ordered."**

** For a second Babs' eyes flashed in irritation. Then she signed. "Buster, you can be so annoying when you're right. Still –" she grabbed the blue buck and planted a heavy kiss on his nose, pulling him tight to her for a minute. Buster's foot thumped the ground convulsively.**

** "Le bravo!" The bunnies turned to see Fifi and Rhubella holding up score cards indicating a 9.5 and a 9.7 respectively. "Eet ees ze problem Ruby and moi do not 'ave – for us eet ees too late for zat!" Fifi giggled, hugging Rhubella tight.**

** "Humph!" Babs tossed her long ears back, but smiled. "Well, good night, Buster. I'll call you tomorrow."**

** Fifi and Rhubella waved, as the buck hopped off home through the dark woods.**

** Babs watched him go. She pressed her paws together, a dreamy smile on her face. "What a day. Just think – on an average Sunday, I'd be up at nine for my carrot muesli, maybe watch a few cartoons and call up Harriet for an hour, then a stroll through Acme park… and see what a blue bunny has in mind. If anything." Suddenly her ears drooped. "Oh no! I can't insult blue-boy any more!"**

** Rhubella blinked. "What, because the traditional vows say "respect and obey"? You're not married yet, remember? You can have fun firing off your stockpile while you've got the chance."**

** Fifi snickered. "Non, Ruby mon tresor. Babs she is thinking, Bustair 'e ees ze toon in all the world she 'as chosen. Eef she bad-mouths 'im now – what will zat say about 'er judgement?"**

** "Hmm." Babs cocked her head to one side, a mischievous smile on her face. "You know me too well, Feef."**

** "Dear Diary," Fifi flourished an imaginary pen. "I am Babs Bunny writing 'zis. Woke up, ate of ze carrots, did something tres deranged all ze day, ate more of ze carrots, and again is bedtime."**

** "Bedtime is right, anyway," Babs stretched, and yawned. "I'll see you tomorrow. Better get up early – or late, with weekday rush hour down there."**

** "Twenty-five rabbit siblings getting ready for school, and college for the oldest ones." Rhubella shook her head, marvelling. "It's like New York's Grand Central station and the locker room of an infantry platoon colliding."**

** "Certainment, Babs. 'Ow your mothair manages eet, I weel 'ave to ask 'er." Fifi's tail twitched. "Babs – I always wondaired – all your brothairs and sistairs are in litters of ze fours and fives. Except vous."**

** "Oh, well – Mother once told me it's a "merciful provision of Nature". First bunny litters are always small – so a girl can see if she really likes the idea. After that – full speed ahead!" Babs winked. "Me, I always thought it was so I could get a whole litter's worth of beauty and talent combined in one luscious helping!"**

** "Of course, the extra rations of ego had to end up somewhere too…" Rhubella deadpanned. "Well, we know it did for only-child Plucky." She squirmed slightly, suddenly wondering how many eggs Shirley was due to lay.**

** Babs pulled down one eyelid and stuck her tongue out in the way she had learned from the Anime transfer student. "Bleah! I'll see you two tomorrow." With that she waved goodnight and hopped down the main access shaft.**

** Rhubella and Fifi were left alone in the moonlight. Rhubella knelt and picked a night-blooming flower, offering it to Fifi who smiled and fastened it in her head-fur. **

** "Tres romantique." Fifi sighed. "Ruby – do you 'ave to return to Perfecto? Eet is so late."**

** "No. I'll stay, if you like." Rhubella looked at her. "I can get to all my notes for tomorrow through my Toon-pad. We don't have taught classes this term, either."**

** Fifi's tail waved slowly, her scent causing some of the flowers to droop unseen in the night. She pulled out the key from her toon pocket. "Heh. Eet eez ze good thing Babs' family made for us ze room with ze separate door and ze air-lock. Or we would be smoking out ze burrow!" Her ears drooped for a second. "Ruby – mon aroma - do you truly – not mind?"**

** Rhubella gave a wry smile. "Fifi. When your fumes are setting concrete alight around us – it's then I know I must be doing something right."**

** The two descended via the new shaft, locking the steel outer door closed against the night. Some more of the furniture Rhubella had ordered had been set up, a dressing table and a mirror. Sharing a bathroom mirror with Babs' dozen sisters was like dressing on an underground train at rush-hour.**

** "What a day." Rhubella stretched. "Do you need help with that, Fifi?"**

** Fifi stopped, a hair-curler in her paw. "Need? I managed alone in ze Cadillac for so many of ze years. But want … is anothair thing." She leaned back, relaxing as Rhubella went to work. Even for a toon, keeping up flawless grooming of so much fur needed a lot of attention. She had sometimes envied Babs for her minimal tail and head-fur, but a rabbit had to cope with the grimy job of tunnelling that would have left Fifi's tail looking like a floor mop. **

** "There!" Rhubella stepped back to admire her work. "All ready for tomorrow."**

** "And now, mon amour, Fifi shall return ze complement." Fifi sat Rhubella down in the chair and busied herself; the rodent's red-brown quiff of head-fur was soon neatly curled around cotton balls holding it in shape. "Ruby… will you be going to Wedding Peach for ze bridal dress? You would look so good in eet."**

** "I don't know. I always wanted one – I wouldn't feel right in a tuxedo. I know it's traditional that one of us wears it but – you and me, we're not very traditional anyway." Rhubella had brought out her T-pad, the customised Perfecto model that all their students depended on for their classwork; unlike Acme Looniversity they did not still depend on paper notes pinned to announcement boards. Hers was more customised than most; Calamity Coyote had taken a thorough look at it and modified the built-in GPS and the reporting link. Most Perfecto students never realised that they were being tracked, but as far as Perfecto's official trace program believed, Rhubella was currently standing in the middle of Acme Park a mile away from Babs' family burrow. Nobody would be tracking her to Fifi's door that way. "I can take a look at their catalogue and see what they've got that'd look well next to a purple and white bride."**

** Suddenly Rhubella's body stiffened in shock. She had not had the chance to check the device since that morning. "Fifi! I'm locked out!" **

** "Eh? Eet ees probably ze battery. Babs, 'er Numbmindo console eet is always quitting just at ze crucial moment." Fifi shrugged. "Leave it until ze morning."**

** "No – it's more than that. The device is working fine. You can use these anywhere in the world. Margot T-mailed me from the beach in the Galapagos Islands this Spring Break, remember? But linking to Perfecto – it's shut me out. Says "no such student." They can't do that!" Rhubella blinked, staring at the 3 ½ D screen.**

** "Eet is ze problem for tomorrow," Fifi said firmly. "Always zhere are enough of ze problems on today's scripts – turning ze page to peek nevair 'elps. And for ze problems – Rhuby, you are not alone now. You 'ave friends – and moi."**

** Rhubella forced herself to relax. She put the T-pad away and turned to see Fifi reclining, her ribbon already removed and the skunkette wearing only her hair-curlers and a broad smile. "In just a month – I'll be free of Perfecto. And then – some people are going to get a shock." She sat down next to Fifi. Feeling the skunkette's luxurious tail curl around her. "It'd be a very Perfecto thing to invite Roderick to the wedding then not let him into the church!" She frowned. It would also be a very Perfecto trick for him to be waiting outside with not rice or confetti but itching-powder or worse to throw at the newlywed couple. Wedding dresses were notoriously hard to clean.**

** Fifi snickered. "'Zat ees ze rotten trick I would forgive my Ruby for! But we shall take eet day by day. And eet eez late, almost Monday. Time for our beauty sleep."**

** Rhubella nodded, relaxing next to her. Tomorrow was another day.**

* * *

><p><strong>When Rhubella next opened her eyes, the clock said eight and Fifi was humming a happy tune as she sat at the dressing table running a comb through her luxuriant tail-fur.<strong>

** "Good morning, mademoiselle ze sleepy-ead!" Fifi teased her. "Ze 'ouse eet ees empty – all ze petit bunnies are fed and watered and on zair way to school and college, while you are fast asleep!"**

** Rhubella yawned. "It's dark down here. My ancestors lived in holes true enough – but I'm used to having a window or two." She kissed Fifi good morning, and staggered out towards the bathroom. It was a forlorn hope that there would be any hot water left in the showers after Babs' family had finished with them.**

** After a decidedly brief and lukewarm shower she stepped out into the corridor to see an unexpected sight at that time of day – one of Babs' sisters vanishing round the corner. "She really will be late for college class!" Rhubella mused.**

** "Bonnie is staying home today," came a voice behind her. She turned to see Mrs. Bunny, the tall orange-brown doe carrying a long skirt folded over her arm.**

** "She's sick? It must be a strain when one of the family comes down with anything and the rest of the burrow might catch it." Rhubella thought hard and placed Bonnie Bunny; two litters junior to Babs with red-orange fur, big round glasses rather than contact lenses, and an unusually quiet and thoughtful attitude for that family. The younger three litters tended to merge into one surging mass in her memory, like a shoal of ever-active fish but furrier and a great deal louder.**

** Mrs. Bunny sighed, but gave a wistful smile. "No, there's nothing wrong with Bonnie. Just one of life's little dramas. I've been having a chat with her." She paused. "I must say, with a burrow full of healthy rabbit daughters it was the talk I've been expecting to give for years. I always expected it'd be Babs I'd be giving it to first."**

** Behind her Babs' door had opened – the pink bunny's eyes opened wide in shock. Babs' mouth opened and closed soundlessly; she turned even pinker in embarrassment and fled back into her room.**

** "Now if you'll excuse me – I have some sewing to do." Mrs. Bunny patted the skirt. "I'll just have to take this old one of mine in a little for Bonnie. She might need it for a day or two. Have fun, dear!"**

** For a minute Rhubella was alone in the corridor. She cautiously knocked on Babs' door. It was unlocked, and she peeked inside. Babs was sitting on her bed, her knees pulled up to her chin and her ears right down.**

** "Babs? Are you all right?" Rhubella half expected a pillow or alarm clock to be hurled her direction. But Babs waved her in, ears still drooping gloomily.**

** "Bonnie Clarice Bunny. Her and Henri. Yesterday. Beaten to it by my sister who – writes poetry! Plays the violin! And never let on she was even in the running for him!" Babs stared at her engagement ring moodily, turning it so the lilac diamond sparkled. "She's not even in the senior bunch down. Katy and Jenny, they'll be tearing their doe fur out in jealousy." She sniffed. "It's always the quiet ones that end up surprising everyone. Look at Mary, or Shirley for that matter." She was silent for a few seconds. "Well, so much for me being senior doe in this family and getting everything first. Beaten to it thanks to that slow-motion buck of mine. So much for rabbit speed. Buster had years of opportunities. OpporToonities, even."**

** Rhubella's furless tail swished. She recalled Babs explaining how her family organised the bunny siblings by their middle names. Barbara Anne was the eldest and the only "A" in the list (and always claimed it entitled her to the A-list when celebrity status was being handed out) and coming from the third litter Bonnie Clarice had siblings whose middle names began with a C. Babs hated the idea of being classified like a library book on a shelf. Rhubella suddenly realised why Babs had famously loathed being called by her full name and why over the years the cry of "**_**I am not code or a number! I am a free bunny**_**!" had often rang across Acme Acres. **

**Rhubella pondered briefly. "Well, if you don't move on other toons catch you up. That's why at Perfecto we keep the junior years … suppressed."**

** Babs stroked her adorable toes, wondering how cute they would have needed to be to get Buster where she wanted him. "This has got me - depressed."**

** Rhubella hummed, contemplatively. "I couldn't blame Buster, from what I've learned about how it works for you. It's the same as Fifi's problem – she's so red-hot on chasing "Skunk-hunks" that it can't possibly work out for her by all the laws of Toon physics. Expect the unexpected, like you all used to say – and that's just what you both got." She sat down, a wry smile on her face. "I know I did, winning Fifi. None of us had the slightest interest in other girls, but that Conservation of Comedy thing won't be denied. And I don't even do comedy."**

** Babs gave a snort of amusement, one ear rising a little. "Comedy is like gravity, Rhubella. It's all around, like it or not. Toon Physics aside – it'll happen to you anyway. And funny is what other toons think – if you want some Grand Universal Comic law try "**_**the greatest laughs for the greatest number**_**". The one on the receiving end of the anvil doesn't have to laugh about it."**

**Back in her and Fifi's room, Rhubella discovered that it was a day for dramas. After a fruitless half hour with her Toon-pad, she borrowed Babs' computer (bright pink, with a screen-saver of flying carrots) and returned with her ears and tail drooping after looking at the Perfecto area from somewhere that would let her in. "Fifi – Perfecto is shut. It looks like everyone bailed out yesterday and hasn't come back. If they thought that plot disruption Babs fired up was aimed at them – and they would – they've gone to ground."**

** Fifi looked at the walls of the burrow around her. "Eh, Ruby, so 'ave we! Underground, eet ees '**_**a bunny thing**_**.' Zat is not zo bad a move, non?" She smiled. "We can work on ze revisions togathair."**

** Rhubella's ears drooped further. "That's not the half of it. They've frozen me out completely. I'm … a non-person. A non-toon. It's like my model sheet was never even drawn there!" **

** Fifi blinked. "Can zey do zat?"**

** "They just did. Where does a computer record go to when it's deleted? Same place the light goes when it's out. They don't keep paper records any more – we learned a lot of reasons not to in our Dirty Tricks classes." Rhubella sat on the bed, her eyes wide in shock. "I've not just been expelled, there's procedures for that you can appeal against – they've wiped me. I was never even there."**

**Outside Babs' burrow the early Summer woodlands were blossoming and loud with birds, and the bright sunshine refused to acknowledge Rhubella's mood. Had she been an Acme Loo student there would have been a small but accurate special-effects rain cloud following her around.**

** Life went on around her despite her troubles, and her friends had their own urgent demands on their time. On the grass beneath the trees she sat and watched Babs and Fifi hard at work practicing the scheduled Looniversity classes they would be taking final exams in a few weeks later. Her ears blushed as she realised she had never really thought about what her friends did all day at the Looniversity. It was a lot more involved than being a crack shot with a custard pie.**

** "And in 'zis script, we 'ave ze customair of ze restaurant, 'e weel not pay 'is bill," Fifi looked up from her Improvised Comedy Drama 701 notes. "Babs, you are ze waitress. What will you do?"**

** "Hmm. What species are you in this?" Babs posed thoughtfully, pulling a notepad from her toon pocket and tapping her chisel teeth thoughtfully with the pencil.**

** "Ze script, eet does not specify. I weel say – I am ze frog." Fifi winked. "And zo what eef eet eez ze type-casting? Funny eez its own reward."**

** Babs spun-changed into a classic roller-skating waitress from a drive-in, with a towering early 1960's blonde beehive hairdo and knee-length skirt. She grinned manically, popping bright pink bubble-gum. "Say, you want an order of flies with that?"**

** Rhubella groaned, picked up her T-pad and connected to her lawyers over the Perfecto troubles she and Fifi had. It was going to be a long morning.**

* * *

><p>"<strong>Lunchtime!" Some hours later Fifi turned as she heard a cheerful call from the direction of Babs' burrow. Checking her watch, she noticed with a start it was one o'clock already.<strong>

** "Ze time, where does it go?" She turned to see Babs' sister Bonnie Bunny carrying a tray with four bowls and a big thermos jug. Bonnie wore the knee-length skirt Fifi had noticed her mother carrying earlier; if it had not been made for her it had been tailored expertly to fit. Evidently Mrs. Bathsheba Zoe Bunny did not spend the family budget on new clothes from the Acme giga-mall if there was anything repairable in the sewing basket.**

** Rhubella sniffed hungrily. "Let's guess - carrot soup?"**

** Bonnie blinked behind her big round glasses as she put the tray down on a handy tree stump. "No, actually - we don't always eat carrots around here."**

** Babs cast her sister an appraising glance. "It's not carrot?"**

** "No. Carrot and coriander. I hope you like it." Bonnie smiled shyly. "Mother told me to make myself useful around the house."**

** "Certainment!" Fifi opened the thermos jug, and sniffed delicately. "Quelle aroma! Delicious! Did you cook eet yourself?"**

** Bonny nodded shyly. "I love cooking."**

** Babs snorted. "She's very domesticated. We stars of the stage and screen endorse own-brand celebrity diet schemes instead."**

** Fifi and Rhubella looked at her. Fifi's tail twitched. **

** "Babs." She whispered in a long pink ear "vous are not ze big star yet. Eet may be you nevair are - eef ze green eyes of jealousy are out of fashion."**

** Babs stared at her wide eyed. Her fur fluffed up, as she considered a stinging retort - and then she deflated, and sighed. "Sorry, Fifi. I'm letting it get to me. Like a certain blue buck hasn't."**

** Fifi giggled. "Zat ees more like ze Babs we know!" She poured out four bowls of the fragrant orange soup. "Now - un petite pit-stop to refuel on ze long road to stardom!"**

** The four toons sat in the long grass and slurped soup. Rhubella's tail twitched. "You know, I was always surprised to see you at weenie-burger, Babs. Shirley has their organic tofu wrap but you don't. I thought rabbits were vegetarian."**

** Babs grinned, an ear dipping slyly. "Weenie-burger? They might have some meat in theory - but you'd get more eating salads. You can't guarantee getting all the insects off a lettuce, after all."**

** "The same with ze Mystery Meat in the Acme Loo cafeteria," Fifi put in. "I 'ave friends in the Mystery Drama classes - zey 'ave solved ze mystery."**

** "And passed it over to the sci-fi /horror classes," Babs added. "We don't all do comedy at Acme Loo. Like Jaggi. He doesn't take a single class I do. Pure action/adventure for him." She paused, and winked. "And Mary, she's getting a lot of action since she decided to get adventurous with him."**

** "Le sigh." Fifi's tail swished. "Mary, she is a lucky toon. When we 'ad ze sleepover - 'ad I 'ad another truth or dare question I would 'ave asked Mary - does she see 'im as black with white stripes or white with black stripes?"**

** Babs cocked her head to one side, contemplating. "I'd guess the first one. Jaggi's like you, Rhubella, he has to wear pants and all that because he can't "conceal". When he first arrived last year I asked Buster what he was like, they're in the same gym class. Buster says he has a very black … nose."**

** Rhubella shrugged. "Some toons can conceal, some can't. It's nothing I can help."**

** Babs cast a sly glance at her sister. "And some could since they could crawl, but can't any more. Not for awhile."**

** Rhubella held her breath. If Bonnie was anything like her eldest sister, there would be mallets drawn or salvoes of custard pies in ballistic flight in the next few seconds. **

** "I really don't mind," Bonnie said quietly, looking Babs in the eye. The sunlight glittered off her round glasses like gunsight lenses. "I prefer long dresses anyway. I always thought them more - womanly."**

** Rhubella put on her sunglasses as Babs went up in a plume of roaring special-effects flames. "Direct hit!" she applauded. **

** "Mais oui! On ze Numbmindo console and ze 'Toon tank' game, Babs 'er turret eez blown clean off with ze first shot." Fifi marvelled. She looked up at the neat smoke-ring rising from the blazing bunny. "Deux kilometres downrange, ze total kill and ze triple score bonus."**

** Babs shook her head, the flames disappearing though she continued to fume. She did not wave, as Rhubella and Fifi did, as Bonnie neatly gathered up the bowls and spoons and returned to the burrow with her long skirts swishing elegantly.**

** Fifi looked innocently up at the blue skies. "What a pleasant, polite daughter Mrs. Bunny 'as," she remarked. "Such charm! Such gentleness! She is a bunny to win ze 'eart of any skunk-'unk."**

** "Without having to run after them at warp speed, arms spread," Babs snapped. "Maybe we all have a lesson to learn about what works around here."**

** "If I was not a Toon I would say I, 'refuse to be drawn,' non?" Fifi's eyes twinkled. "Admit it, Babs. You 'ave questions you would like to ask 'er. But you are ze Big Sister and you cannot bear to, non?"**

** The sound of grinding rabbit teeth was loud in the clearing. Fifi raised an eyebrow. "Barbara Anne Bunny, you are not winning ze charm stakes today."**

** Rhubella looked up from her T-pad. "Oh. I got a message from Mr. Morgan's office. My lawyer, you know. They have one of their staff in the area, he said he can call and discuss things. I hope that's all right."**

** "Certainment!" Fifi nodded. "Babs and I, we 'ave ze work to do. Eet weel be no distraction."**

** Just then, there was a discreet cough. They turned to see an unfamiliar figure. He was a tall young adult toon, neatly dressed in a light grey silk business suit, a briefcase in one well brushed black-furred paw. "Miss Rat? I'm Matt Blaque, Mister Morgan's brief. The office sent me. I have an update on your case." A huge lustrous black and white tail swayed gently behind him, and a familiar scent was on the breeze.**

** It was Babs' turn to look on innocently as Fifi did an Avery 17C "Wild Take", her eyeballs bulging and her heart visibly pounding in her chest as her hard-wired reflexes kicked in. "No distraction, sure. Lawyers as skunks. Heh. Who knew?" **

** Rhubella nudged Fifi gently. "Go ahead," she whispered. "Let me know what legal briefs look like."**

** Just then from the opposite side of the clearing another figure appeared, similarly dressed in a suit – but this suit was black, its wearer a slim feline, grey-furred and his head-fur slicked back.**

** "Chemley." Rhubella's own fur bristled as she recognised Perfecto's house lawyer. "Of course he can find us. He can find anyone. That's his thing."**

** Chemley bowed stiffly to his opposite number, then two documents appeared in his paw from a doubtless neatly indexed part of Hammerspace. "Mademoiselle LaFume. When you arrived in this country the Looniversity signed a paper with Acme Acres City Hall that they would be responsible for your behaviour. Perhaps you never saw it. Your student residency is conditional on your staying out of legal trouble." He gave a thin smile; one sharp feline tooth glistened at his lip. "Being sued will technically qualify as legal trouble, just as well as robbing a bank. You have ten days to leave the country."**

**He handled Fifi the second paper. "In view of that, my client and your former landlord Mister Danforth Drake has been advised to amend his previous, most generous allowance of repayment time. You are to pay him the outstanding sum – by the end of the week."**

End Chapter Seven


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"**Dose palookas, dey ain't gonna get away wit dis!" It was five o'clock; after the regular Acme Looniversity classes had finished for the junior years Fifi and her friends had come to see the Principal. It had been years since anyone had seen Professor Bugs in such a towering rage. "Why, of all the sneaky low-down tricks!"**

** "Monsieur Bugs – eet ees true, then? About poor Fifi 'aving to leave?" Fifi's tail was fluffed out in shock.**

** Bugs paused his pacing and looked at the senior class. He sighed. "Hate to say it, kid, but if we let dem win it's bon voyage for you. So it's time to use our smarts, and I ain't whistling Dixie."**

** Buster winced, looking at his mentor. "And study our classes as well. Perfecto got that timed right. The ol' sucker-punch."**

** Bugs raised an eyebrow. "Dat's my problem. And I can do something about it, too. Ain't no good my having a fancy executive chair if I don't get to make fancy executive decisions." He shook his head. "Chee, da words I had ta learn to do dis job. Dodging hunters was da easy life next to dis." The grey hare took a deep breath, looking around the assembled toons. "I'm assigning you all on dis as a special project – combined Outsmarting and Villain Whopping 701 Supplementary, I calls it. You can do this on Acme Loo time and get marks for it, too. Professors Tweetie and Road Runner teach those courses but gave de okay on it. Whadda you say?"**

** "We'd say yes Sir!" Babs and Buster chorused, the bunnies leaping in the air and slapping their hands together, white glove against pink fur. **

** Buster grinned, turning to his friends. "That's my mentor." He turned to Babs, Fifi, Rhubella and Shirley – and to an avian who by most outward appearances was Plucky Duck. "Glad to have you on the team, Clarke – it wouldn't feel right to do this without the Pluckster, one way or another."**

** Clarke Gander smiled modestly. He tapped his green feathered arm. "Just paying an honest rent on this. Which isn't what these Perfecto people want to squeeze out of Miss Fifi." His eyes hardened briefly. "I've not even met them, but I'm getting a real dislike for those toons already." **

** Shirley looked at him. Even without her aura to scan his directly, her Looniversity acting classes would have told her this was not the same character. Even his voice was different; despite physically having the same beak he had only a fraction of Plucky's lisp. Clarke's posture was subtly different too; he held himself straighter, without Plucky's perpetually somewhat shifty body language. This was a toon who belonged to her world and had faced down things that belonged to the darker corners of it without crumbling into panicked pieces. "Like, welcome onboard. You'll add totally major balance to the team, fer sure."**

** Clarke nodded. "Pleased to meet you too, Ma'm." He extended a feather-hand.**

** Shirley felt a pang of mixed emotions flash through her as she shook hands with a stranger. This was not her mallard. She reminded herself to be nice to the one who was keeping Plucky's body alive, and was volunteering to help the rest of them as a bonus. To make things stranger, at the moment he was the powerful psychic and she was not. It would not take more than a casual glimpse into her now unshielded mind for Clarke to read her body and soul – in fact he might be doing it and she could not even tell. To make things worse, the eggs she was due to lay were carrying that body's chromoplasm; at least if it changed into a goose they would not change to match. At least she hoped not, but with Toons the unexpected was always in the scriptwriter's arsenal. "Is Colonel Fenix feeling better? I know we totally stressed out his aura, to the max."**

** Clarke winced slightly. "The Colonel has not issued us any updates, ma'm. His last briefing was he would commence searching for the missing auras when recovered." He hesitated. "But I saw him after he'd finished repair on the Plot Hole and ma'm, he was hit hard. Being up and walking around by tomorrow would be a rapid recovery. Anything more than that – the end of the week would be doing well."**

** "Just to start. And then he'll be busy looking for Plucky. Looks like it's up to us. All right!" Buster turned to Rhubella. "You know Perfecto. What would it take to make them take you back?"**

** Rhubella snorted. "It'd take threatening them with as much plain ruination as they hit me with. And I don't mean slapstick. They're on a "study break" in the Seychelles and out of reach anyway – and remember they're Toons even if they don't take your classes. You can't do them any permanent harm even if you strung them up from the palm trees and spent all day using them as piñatas."**

** Everyone spent a few happy seconds picturing that. **

** "Ahh," Babs said dreamily "and here's me with a shiny new mallet I so wanted to field test. I'll find an opportunity, sometime."**

** "If they think they're out of reach, they're in for a little surprise" Buster stood next to her. "Remember, you've got toon rabbits on your side this time. Getting there will be no problem, while me and Babs can burrow. Now let's go and write a travel show and an action movie – Babs and Buster style."**

** Babs gave a manic grin that she had copied from Macree, the mink who was currently enjoying his leave surprisingly calmly in Acme Acres assisted in day to day activities by his thinking-mind dog. "Travel show and action movie, Buster? That's a bit one-sided. From someone's point of view – I'm thinking horror film that'd make Freddy Cougar look like Hello-Kitty."**

** "You're a scary bunny." Buster looked at her admiringly. "Now - let's get busy!"**

"**Dat's my boy!" Bugs waved as the party headed out to make their plans. "Don't forget, stay clear of dat tricky turning at Albuquerque!"**

* * *

><p>"<strong>I still don't see how we're going to do this." Rhubella pondered as the toons sat out in the middle of Acme park, well away from any prying ears. "We've no money, no resources and not much time. They've even frozen my bank account – it's "while under investigation" but even the bank can't tell me why!"<strong>

** Babs spin-changed into a plain white martial-arts robe, with a clip-on set of venerable white whiskers. "Ah, grasshopper," she intoned, sitting in a cross-legged pose mirroring Shirley's. "The wise man does not strike at the foe's main strength. He strikes at his secret weakness."**

** "Ze small force of low-resource rebels with right on zeir side, against ze rich and powerful Empire." Fifi reminisced. "'Ow can zey evair win? Because such is ze way of eet."**

** "Which means, forget lawyers and the way the Perfectos are doing it," Buster advised. "It takes too long. Fifi's not got that much time to play with. Besides, we don't work that way." Lawyers and accountants radiated a powerful humour-suppressing field that gave some Toons a severe headache just being close to for any length of time.**

** "We didn't spend all those years going up against Montana Max and his millions for nothing." Babs paused. "Rhubella. I once heard Perfecto invited him to transfer over. Do you know why he didn't? I thought that'd have suited him perfect-o."**

** "Though we'd have all missed sweet Monty so, so much," Buster pressed his paws to his heart and gazed heavenwards innocently.**

** "Missed him? Shouldn't buy cheap government surplus targeting systems from ACME," Babs quipped.**

** The rat gave a sneaky grin. "Perfecto costs serious money, and Acme Loo doesn't. He's one of those folk who's scared of risky investments. He's not got so much money he can stop caring about what he spends. Then – there's the extreme danger waiting there for him."**

** "Extreme danger?" Clarke queried. "What's there that he couldn't hire protection against? Besides, even if you ran him over with a steamroller he'd just bounce back."**

** "We know." Babs and Buster chorused, looking at each other as they recalled a treasured memory from their second year. Babs squeezed Buster's paw fondly.**

** Rhubella smiled, and for a second her old haughty expression returned. "Imagine the horror of it. He can spend all day at the Looniversity enjoying looking down on you, but at Perfecto Monty might have met people richer than he is. Or worse – we have some very high status students from around the world. He could have ended up being some toon's social inferior and know deep down there's no money in the world that could ever fix that."**

** "Ooh. Real horror-show." Babs gave a mock shudder. "So. The Perfectoids. What's their secret fear? Never mind for now how we're going to do it – what could possibly happen to them that's so terrible they'll do anything to avoid it?"**

** Rhubella thought for a minute. Then her eyes lit up. She bent over and whispered in Babs' long pink ear. **

** Babs looked at her. "That's sick. That's awful." A slow smile crept over her features. "And you know? I think I rather like it."**

* * *

><p><strong>On the other side of the planet, a white coral beach shimmered under tropical sun. There was a six-star hotel with private beach that had been exclusively hired for the week, even if that meant leaving half the rooms empty. <strong>

** In the sunshine, the senior year held court with their cliques and tails of juniors petitioning for support and good advice. **_**Bad is the new good**_**, was the smart belief these days.**

** "This is my kind of study hall." Danforth Drake stood poised at the edge of the diving board, the ocean breeze ruffling his feathers. "We should relocate the campus here. We could, you know." He bounced twice on the board and dived into the Olympic-plus sized pool, swimming powerfully back to the edge. Expensively imported fresh water rolled off his well-groomed feathers – oddly enough, like water off a duck's back.**

** "I doubt our dear Miss Hazel would enjoy the weather." Reclining on a sun lounger, Margot Mallard looked at him from over the top of her designer sunglasses. "She's still in Eastern Molvania, last I heard. More her scene. They've got more haunted castles, lightning-blasted hilltops and stylish features like that for her to enjoy."**

** "Why do they have to make the tropics so hot?" Next to her on the poolside and denting her sun lounger a lot deeper, Luanne Lecroy fanned herself irritably with a silk folding fan. "And the sun goes down at night – just like that!" She gave a slashing stroke with her fan as if it was a cleaver. "Somebody should do something about it. Maybe we can sue."**

** Margot sighed. The bovine was a reliable ally to have at your back like a wide vehicle following you on a narrow country lane – nobody would be getting past her in a hurry to take a swipe at your tail-feathers. Unfortunately, as far as her wit and conversational skills went, it was reminiscent of talking to monolithic concrete – pre-stressed concrete would have been more sophisticated. She felt an unfamiliar twinge somewhere that rarely signalled to her consciousness as she thought of Rhubella, her usual confidant and scheming partner. Rhubella was reckoned the sneakiest of the three, while Luanne's brutality was widely admired amongst the lower years who struggled to imitate it. Despite expectations, satellite photographs showed that Perfecto was still standing and even appeared undamaged.**

** "I hope we're safe from Rhubella now." Margot knew that admitting any form of weakness in front of her classmates would be as unwise as splashing around bleeding in a shark pit. "Do we know if our Perfecto Storm worked?"**

** "Nothing to worry about." Roderick Rat's chisel teeth gleamed in a hard smile. "You know just giving her a quick slap, status-wise, would only make her come after us. We had to burn her out completely – demolish everything she's standing on so she can't. No resources, no problem-o."**

** "That isn't going to work," Margot warned. "You haven't thought it through. Remember what Mister Boris taught us in Dirty Tricks class! We can take away her Perfecto status and make sure she never graduates – but we can't take away what she's learned. And if she was motivated before…" she shook her head ruefully. "She may take awhile to dig after you, but there's no hole deep enough to hide forever."**

** "And after you too, sweet Margot," Danforth did a credible imitation of a feline's cruel purr, considering his species. "You agreed with this. Nobody twisted your tail-feathers. You used your ring, you put in your code, as much as any of us." He smiled as he looked up at Margot, his beak looking surprisingly sharp for a pure-strain duck.**

** "I did." Margot mused. There had been little time to think about it with the towering rift in reality rising above Perfecto and the clear sight of Rhubella's new Acme Looniversity allies caught on the spot. If Rhubella had intended to wipe out Perfecto and graduate by default citing the "Last Toon Standing" rules that had not been invoked since the establishment left the ruined BosToon campus in 1933, bringing down any level of vengeance would have been the right thing to do. Despite mocking Hans Haflinger at the time, should it really come to it Margot knew she would not be a submarine that let itself be sunk with any missile unfired. "Yet Perfecto stands."**

** "Proving the Acme Loo-sers fouled up," Roderick replied smoothly. "You're surprised?"**

** "No. And Rhubella, she broke the non-aggression pact we signed in the first year. So she deserves whatever she gets." Margot winced inwardly, though no sign of it showed to Roderick's searching gaze. She had assumed that the apparent change in the rat girl had been only part of a cunning plan the ramifications of which were probably self-protectingly hideous in that they would eat at the mind of anyone discovering them – hence she had not told her most valuable allies about it. That was Rhubella for you – or at least it had been. **_**If it wasn't her behind that attack**_**, Margot felt an unwelcome voice insisting **_**then it's not her**__**who broke our contract. Uh-ohhh…**_

* * *

><p><strong>As evening fell over Acme Acres, Fifi and Rhubella found time to relax after a tiring day. While Babs and Buster planned nearby Fifi had thrown herself into practicing her freestyle gag exercises, pointing out that it would probably be useful in whatever action they came up with. If nothing else, it kept her from worrying about the fresh crop of problems she had been hit with.<strong>

** At last, both relaxed on the knoll above Babs' burrow to watch the sun go down. Rhubella smiled, stroking Fifi's purple furred paw with her own. Her engagement ring clicked against the skunkette's own. "This could turn out to be a really short engagement."**

** Fifi's body locked rigid in horrified shock. "Ruby!" she gasped. "You are – breaking eet off? Because poor Fifi owes the money and weel 'ave to leave, if ze bunnies do not pull ze plan out of ze 'at?"**

** "Silly." Rhubella's coffee-bean nose brushed Fifi's broad flat one as she leaned over to kiss her. "You're not leaving, if there's anything I can do about it. If Perfecto are still after us on Friday, I know what to do about it. I've been doing more than one kind of homework today. The day we get married, is the day you're proof against them deporting you. If it has to be this weekend, never mind ordering dresses from Wedding Peach. You and me is all it takes, with a bouquet of flowers we'll pick on the way to the judge. Yes, we can go to France, or anywhere you want – on our honeymoon."**

** "Ruby. Forgive your Fifi for doubting you." Fifi held her tight, her scent beginning to fume. "I feared, you were mad at me for my tail eet went ze sideways at ze sight of zat M'seu Blaque today."**

** Rhubella smiled. "Your tail has taste. I thought he was handsome too, and I'm not even hard-wired for the sight of two-tone fur. But I'm learning. You're a good teacher."**

** "Vous do not really – mind?" Fifi blinked. "Truly, Ruby?"**

"**A handsome, healthy-looking 'skunk-hunk' who must have brains as striking as his tail, to do that job – very nice." Rhubella snuggled closer to Fifi. "I know sometimes you traditional toons have your cubs actually delivered by the stork, which saves a lot of problems. I wish I knew how you did it. Maybe I'll find out. But if you need a third signature on the request form for that – well. He looked to have all the right qualifications, and I don't mean his law degree. Your choice."**

** Fifi looked Rhubella in the eyes. "I agree. To zis weekend eef we must. We cannot marry in France, alas! Ze othair …" Her tail swished lazily "We 'ave all our lives to think about."**

** Rhubella's ears twitched as a thought hit her. "Who'd have thought it? I'm a skunk magnet. Me, not you! As soon as I show up, the queue of handsome two-tone fur starts to stretch right down the road."**

** "Ze law of Conservation of Comedy," Fifi found the prospect less depressing than she had the first time. "I could nevair find one until eet ees too late and my 'eart is yours. But – ze trick ees, to 'ave ze last laugh on it aftair all."**

** "Umm. That's a bit too advanced QuanToon Theory for me," Rhubella conceded. "If it gets me you – I don't care how that happens." She squeezed Fifi's paw. Looking at the softly furred skunkette, she felt her heart melt at the prospect of making her happy. With Roderick it had been the usual Perfecto relationship – both made certain they got what they wanted out of the other, which was the best anyone there expected and far more than most actually got. "Anyway – it's time to eat."**

** The pair descended into the Bunny family burrow, waved at Mrs. Bunny and took their trays. Mealtimes at Babs' crowded family home was rather like a cafeteria, with each young lapine taking their tray and bowls to the kitchen hatch to be filled and helping with the washing up afterwards.**

** "I see what Babs meant about her sisters," Rhubella did not have to whisper to be private in the noise of six litters of bunnies feeding. Near one end of the table Henri was conspicuous amongst two dozen bunnies by his glorious expanse of skunk tail, with Bonnie sitting next to him evidently with official approval. Rhubella guessed that Mr. Bunny had been having words with him, and was satisfied with what he heard. Across the table two of Bonnie's older sisters evidently had different opinions and were looking daggers at her. "Jenny Beatrice Bunny and Katy Belle Bunny – they look like they're about to spit teeth."**

** "If looks could kill, Bonnie she would not be feeling zo well, eh? Babs she ees not the only one turning ze green of jealousy," Fifi's own huge tail waved slowly. "And at least she was not aftair zat 'andsome French two tone tail for 'erself – she 'as Bustair to look forward to!" Fifi's own tail waved instinctively.**

** Rhubella smiled. Babs, she had heard, had made a point of only dating her own species even if in practice that had meant only Buster. Her siblings apparently had their own ideas. Amazingly enough, Babs had not blown her top in a Krakataoa #1 Special-Effect that morning on discovering her Mother reallocating her double-bed for a standard single. There was a new room being dug at the opposite end of the corridor. "It must be a Rabbit Thing," she mused to herself.**

** They collected their bowls of vegetable stew; carrots were certainly an ingredient but far from the only one. Rhubella looked around the table, and thought hard. It was just as well she and Fifi had a room, as her Perfecto card would certainly not get her through the gate right now and would probably trigger the automatic super-pressure fire hoses that swept the gate areas clean of riff-raff. She had nowhere else to go apart from home to BosToon on the far side of the continent. If Babs and Buster could not find a way to undo what her former classmates had dumped on her – this was the only home in Acme Acres she had. "It's not Perfecto – a few months back I'd have turned my nose up at the cuisine. But at least I don't have to watch my back, or test for "food additives" here."**

** "You are allergic?" Fifi asked, concerned. "Mrs. Bunny she 'as nothing but ze freshest vegetables, nothing othair in zis. I 'ave seen ze kitchens and pantries." There were restaurants in Acme Acres with smaller kitchens, but there were also restaurants that would struggle to feed thirty hungry customers at every sitting.**

** Rhubella looked at her, and sighed. "Fifi. Living at Perfecto is total non-stop warfare without a Christmas truce, even. Not as noisy as Acme Loo, we don't drop ten tonne safes on each other. But you learn fast not to take your eyes off your food, and that's just the obvious side of things." She shook her head. "I've seen people slipped purgatives that can turn a toon clean inside-out, Fleischer style. Ooh, that's messy. The biology class get their cameras out for bonus practical class points."**

** Fifi's ears went right down. "Such social graces zey teach you."**

** Rhubella tried hard to feel ashamed. It had been outrageously funny at the time, and the victim rather than the aggressor was pushed further down the social heap as always. She remembered Margot handing a disintegrated rival an inside-out burst tennis ball and straight-facedly persuading the victim that it was her gall bladder and really should go back inside with the rest."**_**If you let it happen to you, you deserve it**_**" was her sorority's unofficial motto. **_**Do unto others as they would do unto you, but do it first**_** – that was not a motto that needed to be taught even in the first year. To a Perfecto student it was as natural as breathing. **

** "Carrot, cabbage, mushrooms, potato and herbs." Rhubella mused, stirring her stew with the combat/survival spork that was almost her last legacy of Perfecto mealtimes. "And they don't eat it by the gallon. How on earth do they all get the energy, on this? Apart from them not running up the walls, this family do a good version of living inside a martial arts movie." **

** Fifi giggled. "Zey are bunnies, zey could run ze marathon on ze fresh grass diet. Proffessair Coyote, 'e could lecture for a week and not give vous all ze details. Zat is why we say "**_**eet ees a Toon Thing**_**" for short – eet ees ze same reason why all ze energy drinks in California weel not make a tortoise win ze race." She paused. "Unless 'e uses 'is wits, and makes eet funny. Calories 'ave nothing to do with eet."**

** Just next to them, Jenny Bunny evidently had nothing wrong with her long yellow ears. She nodded meaningfully at Bonnie across the table. "And they won't have anything to do with some of us likely needing a larger dress size, soon enough." She suddenly gave a yelp, and reached down to rub a bruised shin. Bonnie Bunny looked on, serene and smiling.**

** Fifi's ears went up as she recognised Babs' voice in the hallway. A few seconds later a familiar pink and white blur of energy shot across the room, gave a wave and a cry of "Hi Mom!" and grabbed a bowl of steaming vegetable stew. "Shift it, Mortimer!" She squeezed in between her eldest brother and Fifi on the bench. Turning to the rat and skunkette, she winked broadly. "You know, coming up with a Perfecto-stopping plan takes as many calories as three hours of bench pressing a ten tonne truck!"**

** "You've got a plan?" Rhubella blinked. **

** "Oh yes. That's like saying the ocean's sort of damp. It's true but oh, how much more there is to it." For a minute Babs swallowed carrot stew like a Space Shuttle engine gulping fuel at full throttle. "Ah****.**** That's better. It all goes down on Thursday. Calamity Coyote hacked into the hotel Perfecto have booked and they'll be there till then. What Buster and me have in store for the Perfectoids – a roadkill raccoon has it good, next to that." She copied Sweetie Bird's evil chuckle. "They'll wish they were disposable guest stars in the Happy Tree Friends ™ !"**

** Fifi winced. "Babs, Bustair 'ad it right. You are ze scary bunny. Eef I ask ze details, eet will put me off my dinner."**

** "Can't have that." Babs winked. "Where ignorance is bliss – you know why Concorde Condor never gets depressed. Let's just say Rhubella will be better off not showing up on Perfecto's roster right now."**

* * *

><p><strong>As the long early Summer day drew to a close, Shirley McLoon was resting on the high ridge of Mount Acme that ran down into the woods a few hundred yards behind her family house. From there, there was a wide view of the open skies facing away from the intrusive urban glow of Acme Acres. She often came up there with her astrological charts to watch the stars.<strong>

** The young loon had been trying to commune with her inner nature for hours. She sighed, giving it up as a bad job. Her mood ring was no help, the aura-sensitive artefact as much use without her aura as a TV set with no power supply. The last of the light caught the twinned rose quartz crystal she wore around her neck.**

** "Shirley? Your Mother said you were up here. Can I join you?" Mary Melody's voice broke the quiet that only the wind in the trees below had stirred. **

** ""Come on up, Mary." Shirley was sitting in the Lotus position on the grass, feeling to her disgust her white feathers getting damp and grass-stained. Having an active aura had been like a force-field shielding her from the everyday annoyances of life. "I was just watching the sunset."**

** Mary climbed up around the steep limestone crag, hardly breathing heavily despite the steep hill and the two mile rapid walk from her home in central Acme Acres. Her usual roller-blades were stowed in a backpack and she wore the same brand of mountaineering boots that Jaggi did, though the stallion also wore them to class and the beach. She stood for a minute, her dark skin almost glowing like copper in the sunset light, her powerful figure braced sturdily on the hillside. She smiled sympathetically, and sat down next to Shirley. For a minute she was silent. "What a Spring it's been," she said quietly. "Things have certainly changed for us. I sometimes worry I – started it all, bad as well as good. With me and Jaggi. And everything else followed."**

** Shirley gave a chuckle; the first time she had laughed in days. "Whoa, Mary! Like, less of the mondo guilt trip! Things were getting way inflammable all year."**

"**Do you think so?" Mary blinked.**

"**Fer sure. When the forest dries out, it's natural forest-fire time, you know? All part of the ecosystem. If it hadn't been one spark it'd have been another." Shirley winked. "Calamity Coyote said, you only get steam-engines when it's steam-engine time. If you and Jaggi hadn't been so right, you wouldn't have been so inspiring for us. All of us." Suddenly her feathers seemed to droop. "And if not you - it would have been Plucky and Maria first. That's what I saw in my crystal, and it put me in a total panic. I had to yank his destiny way off course and fast, like crash-landing an airliner that was meant to land elsewhere. They were so right together too."**

** "I saw Maria walking out with Clarke," Mary said hesitantly. "She seemed happy. They were coming out of a movie theatre."**

** "More mondo bad karma for me." Shirley sighed. "She's going to lose her mallard twice. I took Plucky off her, and if he gets back Clarke's going back to being just a disembodied spirit and a body that doesn't even twitch. Maria loses both ways, and it's not her fault for either. I can't even give her Plucky back if he comes back. It's too late. When he finds out about our eggs, there's nothing that'd make him go." She cast a searching look at Mary. "Well, without my aura I'm like down in the weeds and mud of the mundane plane fer sure. Weighed down with eggs like any other broody waterfowl in the swamp. I'm getting totally primitive cravings for meat and fish, Mary! That's so radically uncool!"**

** Mary nodded. She had thought hard but realised that there was nothing she could say or do that would help her friend. "What if he doesn't…" she started, and broke off, fearing to make things worse.**

** Shirley looked at her. "I don't need my aura to guess you're thinking "**_**what if Plucky never comes back?**_**" It could happen. Then Maria, she'd still be mourning him along with the rest of us. And I'd be weaving a reed nest in the swamp, on my own. But hey! Enough of the negative vibes." She stroked her still smooth feathered abdomen; according to her mother it would be a month before anything started to show. "It could be worse. I wouldn't have guessed I'd feel this way but - no Plucky and no eggs – that'd be way worse. At least there's still something of him left for me."**

** "He's out there somewhere, searching." Mary looked up at the darkening skies, where the first summer stars were coming out. She knew that the astral plane was no more in one direction than another – but looking into the endless reaches of space felt right for the situation. "I don't know where – but once he makes his mind up he doesn't quit." **_**Not even when that'd be the only sensible thing to do**_**, a rebellious thought whispered inside her head. She mentally stamped on it with hobnailed boots.**

** Shirley was silent. She lay back on the grass, no longer trying to centre herself; she had tried that and discovered an aching void where her centre used to be. The loon and the human lay out of the wind on the ridge together and watched the summer stars wheeling high above them.**

**Somewhere that would show on no star charts, a figure flew through illimitable space. Exactly what travellers there saw of themselves and their surroundings was mostly shaped by who was doing the travelling. The shape was that of a sleek, highly supersonic interceptor – in fact it was very like the one in Mega Wing Commander 4 – but in some ways it had definite aspects of green duck. Whether Plucky flew it from the cockpit or was the craft himself, was a fairly meaningless question.**

** An experienced traveller would have more navigational instruments on the cockpit, hopefully including one showing where home base or refuelling stops could be found. This had something that echoed an early fighter radar, a fixed beam pointing straight ahead like a searchlight beam in the darkness.**

_**Gee, you can see forever out here**_**… a thought registered somewhere. Plucky had thoroughly suppressed the idea that he was completely lost, reminding himself **_**Shirley's aura is out here and so am I. How hard can it be? All I have to do is keep going long enough**_**…**

** It might have been an easier flight if the skies were empty. There were other things out there, some of them fellow travellers seen afar like distant contrails in the sky, too far away to hail even had he known their frequency. There were other things though – they were great towering cloud-like structures that looked as if they belonged here. They were alive and hungry. On previous trips carried along with Shirley's aura, they had been pointed out at enormous distance and diverted well clear of. **

** The mallard machine flew on. The altimeter gave no meaningful reading, but somehow there was at least an up and a down, or it felt that way. "Down" was back towards the material plane – though he tried not to think of the time Shirley had lectured him on the difficulty of getting home to the right one. He shuddered at the prospect of returning to an alternate Acme Acres timeline where Disco still ruled and his Disco-loving sidekick Hamton was the Big Toon On Campus. It had bad enough that one time when he had "borrowed" Calamity's half finished Time Machine and gone sideways to a world populated by collectable robot versions of everyone. He could still recall Babs' mocking response to it - **_**"The Tinny Toons. Heh. Who knew?"**_

"**Down" was back towards all the possible material planes, but "Up" was somewhere else entirely – somewhere there was the top of the atmosphere, and anything at that height travelling fast enough would break free entirely and head out on a one-way trip like a space probe heading out forever to the distant stars. There was something out there but it was as far as galaxies.**

_**It shouldn't be this difficult. Not if I can do it. Even that alley-cat Furball got here once! And he didn't even mean to!**_** The unlucky feline had found his way onto the astral plane once having been in an alleyway when a dry-cleaners had thrown a leaky container of experimental cleaning fluid into the dumpster he was sheltering in. Plucky and Shirley's auras had been passing at the time and seen the feline's astral shape rocket past them like a cat on a hot tin astral plane. "Launching Furball X-L 5!" as Plucky had quipped, quickly quoting the old sci-fi show that had been re-run that season on Acme TV. Shirley's aura had almost lost focus in fits of laughter – surprisingly, her energy form had carried most of the loon's sense of humour. **_**High spirits**_**, Plucky thought with a hint of a smile on his beak.**

** In whatever way that meant, Plucky looked up. For a long time he strained at the furthest edge of vision, staring out into the void for a hint of anything moving against the stars. He was about to give up when he spotted something. There was no contrail; it was too high for that. It looked like the old long-distance pictures of moon rockets powering out of the gravity well with their second stage about to burn out, the engine plume expanding wide in the near airless heights. Whatever it was, it was already almost at the top and not intending to return; not a Moon but a Loon rocket.**

** "Shirley." It was only a distant speck but somehow he knew that was exactly what he was looking at. The loon's aura had fled in panicked disgust on a one-way trip, not wanting any part of what her material form had been willingly trying. He flinched guiltily remembering that moment in Shirley's cellar – though it had not been him who had thrown the cage key out onto the floor or even suggested the idea in the first place. It was not something either of them would be discussing with their friends. "You really had to be there," he murmured to himself.**

** Suddenly, the relief at finally spotting her shattered as a wave of panic washed over him. No return meant just that out here – past that point nobody would be coming home whether they wished to or not, not even the famous Major Tom. If he could catch her before then, he could try to persuade her to return – that or at least follow her out by her side forever. For an instant he paused, thinking about that. The Shirley he truly loved was the shining, almost angelic one up here, not the earthly waterfowl who slept with curlers in her head-feathers. There were other pretty duck-girls in the swamp, but nobody remotely like Shirley. **

**Plucky took the equivalent of a deep breath; the sleek interceptor (canard configuration, naturally) slid open the ramps of its air intakes to its utmost. Then a webbed astral foot kicked in an astral afterburner as he locked the controls for a collision course interception. He had worried about the fuel state, but now threw out that fear in the hope it would save weight as he clawed for altitude.**

_**I'm not going back without you!**_

End Chapter Eight


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**Blazing tropical sun beat down on the exclusive beach resort in the Seychelles, where a six-star hotel sat in glorious isolation. There were humble Native huts in the grounds of course – but the original humble Natives had been deemed too unsightly for the hotel's corporate image and shipped off years ago to other less marketably scenic islands. The huts had been remodelled to be more what guests expected of a tropical paradise.**

** In the cool shade of one of them Margot Mallard was holding court with her entourage, the first-years to whom she had extended a little protection in exchange for a lot of service. One, a fish-hawk named Irma Falco, was handing over a brown envelope full of used banknotes.**

** "Very well, Irma," Margot weighed the envelope in her finger-feathers. "You shall have the answer to the question you asked yesterday. How did I topple sweet Giselle from her position as head of Omega Sorority last year? Considering she had a most suitable boyfriend helping to build her power base? Come close – you've paid for the secret to your ear-hole only, and you shall have it."**

** Irma shooed her classmates away and leaned closer for Margot to whisper to her, an anticipatory smile on her sharp hooked beak.**

** "Toon swans are like other swans – by nature they bond for life," Margot whispered. "Except Giselle hadn't got round to it with Beauregard, physically. I got there first. By the time I'd had my fun and dumped him – he was spoiled for life, for plain Avian girls like Giselle. She'll never have what I showed him the … appeal of." Margot's feather-finger ran down her curvaceous figure, courtesy of a mammal ancestor who did not appear on her official family tree. She chuckled. "Let's face it, apart from feathers she's equipped like a dinosaur dame, strictly Miss Jurassic Mark One where it counts. Giselle was devastated when I told her all the details. She lost all her edge, all her focus, and didn't see everyone else's usual daily plots before she fell right into them. Like stumbling blindfold through a minefield. Most amusing to watch for all concerned."**

**Irma's tail feathers spread slightly as she contemplated, her breath coming faster. "And Beauregard?"**

"**Oh, him. I made it very plain in public how he scored; barely one out of ten. He was a laughing-stock. Species that are meant to bond for life are such a delight to use and publicly dump; usually they just can't cope. He transferred out of Perfecto for good at the end of that term." Margot's eyes narrowed. "Just to make things interesting, I can tell you that Giselle forever missed out on rather a good thing. My real rating for Beauregard would be... an eight or a nine out of ten. I briefly considered keeping him, I admit. Danforth was so marvellously jealous when I told him all the details. He rates about a six if that – though fortunately for him, he has other uses." For a second she recalled a certain green mallard at Acme she had once considered getting into her nest; it would have been fun to inflate and pop that notoriously overblown ego, and the spaced-out loon she had since heard was his fiancée would have been most amusingly devastated.**

** Irma's beak had been set in a cruel smile as she savoured the revelations. Suddenly the smile vanished. She too was a pure-strain avian, and could walk around Acme Acres in her bare feathers should she someday wish to be so badly accessorised. "You've sold me a solution that… I can never use!"**

** "Yes, haven't I just?" Margot's tone was smooth, raising her voice for the others to hear as the mammal-descended mallard relaxed in satisfaction. "But it is the true answer, the exact information you wanted. What you can do with it is your problem. Buyer beware." She winked to the rest of the first-years, who were looking on in shocked admiration. "I trust you'll all profit from the lesson. Now, I could use a coffee."**

** There was a minor scuffle, Margot looking on smiling as the first-years fought with tooth, claw and mallet for the privilege. She nodded to the one who scrabbled to the top of the pile, a toon feline. "Yes, Felicia Felid. Unlike the rest you… are not today's loser."**

** An athletic hound in neat waiter's uniform offered Margot the menu. The hotel had a three-minute guarantee on such deliveries. **

** "Hmm." Margot scanned the list. There were thirty gourmet coffees, all of them unethically sourced FoulPlay brands from all around the world carefully extracted by force from snivelling and unfashionably dressed peasants. Her finger-feather flicked daintily over the descriptions of the skinny latte and the pleasingly plump mocha before settling on the morbidly obese cappuccino. "That one. Make it so."**

** Felicia's credit card would have winced at the price had it been able, but in two minutes an electric buggy with travelling coffee bar had drawn up outside the hypoallergenic plastic-thatched hut and the professional coffee chef was serving. Margot sipped appreciatively, before dismissing him and her hangers-on with a flick of her feather-hand. "This really is the life!" She watched as they scattered out of sight till summoned again. It was quite amusing being in the role of a teacher, she mused as she sipped the coffee. "Give a toon a fish for himself and he can eat for a day. Have him trained to prepare your turbot fillets in cordon bleu style, and after you fire him he can starve to death knowing exactly what he's missing…"**

** Just then, there came a distant rumbling sound. Margot frowned. "I didn't order an earthquake." She pulled out her T-pad to complain to the hotel management, and her feathers bristled at the sight of the **_**'No Signal'**_** icon. "That can't be – these things work anywhere!" She strode towards the main hotel complex, visibly fuming. Perfecto students did not study cheap Toon special effects, but sometimes they manifested regardless.**

** The ground shook again. Suddenly a four-yard section of the beach erupted in a shower of sand, revealing a staircase going down shaped amazingly like a Moscow subway entrance. A torrent of toons emerged – nearly thirty rabbits wearing an unfamiliar uniform with mirror eyeshields on their helmets as used by motorcyclists that hid their faces.**

** "At-they are-they ones-ay!" One of the new arrivals pointed at the Perfecto students. In seconds they were surrounded by armed toons pointing weapons that were certainly not slapstick assault trifles.**

"**What's the meaning of this?" Roderick yelled "You put those down or you're in big trouble!"**

** Most of the bunnies were short, with plain brown outfits, mirror-fronted helmets totally hiding their features and what looked like construction boots. Two were different; they wore more elaborate uniforms than the rest, with stiff shoulder-boards and brightly polished boots over their huge feet. One wore a red helmet, the other a black one. The tallest rabbit also wore the black face-concealing helm; he strode forwards menacingly. "Final-year academic persons of decadent Western Perfecto academy! You have been living on Eastern Molvanian territory for five years, and not with tourist visas. Eastern Molvanian laws say you are owing our nation years of residency tax and border tariffs. You now liable for draft in revived Foreign Legion. Immediately."**

** "And we will, too," the red-helmeted bunny cut in.**

"**The Eastern Molvanian Foreign Legion?" Roderick scoffed. "I've never heard of it. Anyway you can't draft us! We're not Molvanian! We're U.S. Citizens!"**

** Hans von Haflinger nudged him nervously. "Roddy? Hate to say it but … that's what a foreign legion is - made of foreigners. And you know, we have spent more than half our time at Perfecto on that side of the border. For tax reasons, remember?" Perfecto Prep was half on what was legally the Eastern Molvanian Embassy, although the staff and students generally took the duty-free benefits and never thought twice about any duty that might come with it. There had never yet been any; Eastern Molvania was notorious about not enforcing its own laws anywhere let alone overseas.**

** The black-helmeted rabbit laughed. "Once, we had one. Was all used up in Molvanian Civil War. Not a toon of it left alive! Now have Regime Change, have need of a fresh one for extra-dangerous missions. No volunteers so…" **

** Danforth snorted. "We'll see about that. We never travel without our legal staff. Lawyer!" he yelled. "There'll be an injunction on you so fast your head'll spin!"**

** Inside a minute, there was the screech of tyres. Two felines in white aprons hopped out of the rapid-response travelling café bar, drinks menus and cafeterias at the ready.**

** "No, fools, not you! I wanted our lawyers, Barristers!" Danforth's beak gaped in amazement.**

** The taller one bowed. "That is our profession, Sir. We are qualified baristas, hired to accompany this party and provide a professional coffee experience twenty-four hours a day."**

** "Sure, sure – but the agency sent other toons as well – it's a standing order everywhere we go," Roderick snapped.**

** Margot blinked, a shiver running down her spine as a terrible thought struck her. "Who arranged that standing order? Just who in Perfecto hired you?"**

** The barista gave a small smile. "A most elegant and charmingly spoken lady rat, she made all the arrangements with the agency over the telephone."**

** "Rhubella. She knew half Perfecto is foreign soil. She must have been plotting with them through the Toon hole all along – nobody found her Plan because they were looking on the wrong continent! She swapped our trained counsel for trained coffee-slingers, and we never even noticed." Margot found herself admiring her ex-ally even as she realised the depth of the hole that was yawning beneath them. "That's … brilliant. She even fooled me."**

** "She must have known all along! That we'd head out overseas and wipe her status when she and the Loo-sers did what they did," Roderick's jaw dropped. "If we hadn't wiped her status … she'd be caught up by these goons too. But – we kicked her out and that made her safe from them. And … she'll only have to turn up at Perfecto on the last day and automatically she's Last Toon Standing." Roderick's ears and tail drooped. **

"**She can, too." Hans von Haflinger's eyes went wide in desperation as he pressed panic buttons on his T-pad and received nothing but static, as if somehow the signal was being jammed. Under Perfecto's insanely convoluted rules, if somehow only one Toon of a year's class made it to the graduation day then they passed with full honours regardless of their actual exam marks (if any). In Perfecto's two hundred and twenty year history it had only been invoked once, when the catastrophic BosToon Incident of 1933 had forced the establishment to move across the country to Acme Acres. "It's that "tontine" deal our legal department likes so much – last one alive gets everything."**

** "And now, Western trash-toons, for you ze peace is over." The red-helmeted rabbit struck a powerfully menacing pose, swatting at her long boots with a riding-crop. "To be moving, make-quick!"**

** "Ey're they ot-nay oot-nay ight-bray," her black-helmeted companion agreed. "Make-quick!" Shepherded by the platoon of smaller lepines, the entire Perfecto senior year were herded into its depths and vanished from view.**

** The tunnel entrance gaped, wreathed with special-effect smoke and fumes fitted to a classical descent to the underworld. Oddly enough, rather than the traditional brimstone, this one smelt strongly of boiled cabbage. Before the other Perfectos could respond, with a rumble the entrance collapsed to leave a smooth expanse of white sand beach as if it had never been there.**

** There was a stunned silence. Irma Falco looked across to the now empty upper floor hotel suites, and with a discreet gesture summoned her clique to her. A smile was on her hard beak. "I don't think they'll be coming back. At least, not any time soon."**

"**Agreed." Felicia Felid's tail swished excitedly. "It must be desperate out there if they're running out of available bodies. It looks like they're having to use cub soldiers already, to look at the size of some of those troopers. You know what this means, don't you?"**

** A hulking wolverine, evidently a Sports Scholar, scratched his shaggy head as he tried to think. Steam emerged from his ears at the unaccustomed effort. "Da Seniors. We get all their stuff?"**

** Irma sighed. "I was thinking, we wait till we see who comes out on top of the fourth-years' power struggle, then offer them our services." Suddenly her expression brightened. "But in the meantime – you're not wrong!" Shockwaves rattled the windows as her clique broke all record getting upstairs to loot. At Perfecto, as its surviving students proudly boasted, they taught toons to get their priorities right.**

* * *

><p><strong>Far out across the steppes and deserts of KhazaksToon, a long-abandoned military base was bustling with activity. It had been thirty years since it had been carefully mothballed before being utterly forgotten; everything that had any resale value had been taken away years ago. This had not included dusty bales of obsolete uniforms, tools and utensils that were currently being unpacked in a musty warehouse.<strong>

** "This outfit doesn't do a thing for me," Luanne Lecroy complained, the bovine girl struggling into one of the coarse brown uniforms they had unpacked at gunpoint from the faded bales. "Brown's not my shade. Don't they do them in any colour except brown?" She frowned. "I don't see the designer on this. I can't wear anything that's not by a Name."**

** There came a peal of manic laughter. The Perfectos turned to see the red-helmeted officer looking at them, faceless behind the mirrored visor but her every line a pose of arrogant contempt. "I am OverCaptainKomissar Karrotovich and you are here for duration! Or rest of your lives, whichever is longest." She paused, fists clenched on her hips as she looked around. "In twenty years survivors of Foreign Legion with Good Conduct medals become Eastern Molvanian Citizens third-class – and can apply for form for permission to apply for passport. Till then – be the getting used to it!"**

** "Just humour them," Danforth whispered to Margot "there's sure to be a telephone or an embassy around here somewhere. One phone call to my lawyer and we're out of here. This place doesn't even have any fences."**

** "You stupid boob," Margot hissed at him "why do you think there's no fence? We're a thousand miles from nowhere in the KhazaksToon desert! There's nowhere to go. No phone out there. No food. No water. And they tested Toon-killing stuff around here – some of this area is still so soaked in catalytic Dip it glows in the dark with lost tourists going up in paint fumes. If you want to try walking out of here, be my guest! I don't know whether that Dip zone starts a hundred miles or a hundred yards away."**

** "Oh, sweet Margot, do use your brain for once in awhile. We got in here through that stupid rabbit tunnel. And we've got a rabbit of our own to do just that and take us home, haven't we?" Danforth nodded towards Harrington Hare, the lepine currently discovering that as with all conscript armies the Eastern Molvanian uniforms came tailored either in size Much Too Large or Far Too Small. "Just wait till they're not looking and Harrington can dig us straight out again."**

** Margot groaned, looking at her erstwhile partner. "He's a hare. Only rabbits have rabbit toon shticks. Hares don't dig. Dig it?" She shook her head wonderingly. At Perfecto Toon shticks and general slapstick was looked down on as from a great height, but she had to admit it could sometimes turn out very useful. As in right now, when their wealth, position and gadgets were no longer available. She realised that all her year could rely on was their loyalty, trust and friendship for each other. **_**That and thirty dollars will buy you a demi-tasse of FoulPlay coffee,**_** she noted glumly.**

**Just then there was a heavy tread outside. She turned to see the OverCaptainKomissar looking up appreciatively at three new arrivals.**

** "Attention! We have your training officers, arriving. You may recognise them. They are proper workers not pampered bourgeoisie trashy-toons, oh yes!" OverCaptainKomissar Karrotovich gestured to three hulking figures who stood beside her.**

** "Oh no…" Danforth breathed, his tail feathers drooping. He certainly did recognise them. Although they wore slightly better tailored uniforms, they wore the Eastern Molvanian fatigues in what would be a Too Large size on anyone else but fitted them perfectly. "Wayne, Clint and Chuck. Our own Sports Scholars!"**

** The three hulking canines grinned, cracking their knuckles in anticipation. They had been found wandering aimlessly through the streets of Acme Acres and recruited for a pocketful of small change and the chance to pay the seniors back for years of looking down on the "dumb lunks" as they were usually referred to behind their backs. A Sports Scholar was extremely replaceable and partly recruited for their dim wits as well as their brawn, but none were so dim that they would not eventually get the message – and there was generally nothing wrong with their hearing.**

** "At end of week one of recruits gets promoted over rest of you one step, yes." OverCaptainKomissar Karrotovich looked around the Perfectos, seeing the instant wave of calculating expressions wash over them at the announcement. A dozen long-held alliances suddenly shattered as they each realised there was only room for one, and '**_**every toon for themselves'**_** now applied. "Until then – to be working. Make-quick!"**

**Eight hours later, a ragged procession of dust-covered figures staggered back into camp. The only ones still looking jaunty were the three Training Officers, the Sports Scholars having taken great pleasure in handing out the orders passed to them by the only two Eastern Molvanian bunnies who apparently spoke English – and had generously left them to it as to how they enforced it. The ice-hockey sticks that Wayne, Clint and Chuck held looked odd in the desert, but they had found other good uses for them than swatting pucks across the ice.**

** Roderick Rat groaned. "The next time I write a cheque, I'll know why it says "do not fold, spindle or mutilate". Now I know how it feels."**

** Hans von Haflinger looked at him, hiding a smile. The grey-furred stallion's mind seethed with plans to be the one chosen to join the Sports Scholars. All previous loyalties were blowing in the dust, and it was no longer just the Sports Scholars who were expendable. "Roddy, old rat, you shouldn't have threatened to take their names. Where do you think you're going to take them to? They're in charge right now."**

** "That's right. Nobody in the world knows where we are. Do you think the rest of Perfecto will be spending time and resources looking? Like our junior years?" Margot brushed dust from her long mane of head-feathers, having vainly tried to cram it under the issued cap. She winced somewhat, realising there was a downside to keeping the junior years ruthlessly suppressed, no matter how much fun it had been. "We've already paid our fees for this term, so our tutors won't care either."**

** "Attention, useless trash—toons!" They turned to see OverCaptainKomissar Karrotovich looking them over, the helmeted bunny's voice laden with scorn. "Be enjoying of the meal – is special celebration meal for new Recruits. All other meals you are to be cooking and all washing, starting as of now." She gestured to one of the open warehouses where something was bubbling menacingly in a big vat. Green fumes arose.**

** One minute later they were looking at the evening meal. "Cabbage?" Roderick's ears drooped. "They run us around all day then feed us nothing but plain boiled cabbage?"**

** "Oh no. No luxuries for fourth-class non-Citizens," The voice of OverCaptainKomissar Karrotovich came from behind him. "Is cabbage substitute. Made from reprocessed shoddy propaganda leaflets of previous corrupt revisionist regime."**

** "Officers get real beetroot," Wayne rumbled, the Sports Scholar's chest swelling with pride. "And maybe beans."**

** "After, all to be helping renovate your new home." OverCaptainKomissar Karrotovich rubbed her paws together in gleeful anticipation. "Western Capitalist toons have saying, hard work never killed anybody. Is all part of education provided at no charge by benevolent Eastern Molvanian State. Soon you will be finding out!"**

* * *

><p><strong>Night fell on the desert, and the temperature plummeted. A tired and irritable collection of toons squabbled over the least worst beds, often settling the arguments with hastily summoned mallets. <strong>

** Over by the door, a white Persian feline sniffed disdainfully at the dust. "This is all so unfair." Zorinda brushed her once-white fur in dismay. "We don't deserve this. We're not bad people. I give to charity, regularly, I mean!"**

** "Yes. I know '**_**Bad Samaritans'**_**. They send film teams to disaster spots around the world to have a good laugh," a night-black raven commented nastily. **

** "So? Charity is charity." Zorinda popped her claws out; they were not only manicured but fitted with diamond-plate edges. "Now shut your beak or they'll be carrying out a carrion bird in slices."**

** "They say civilisation is two missed meals away from barbarism," Margot murmured, looking on as Luanne Lecroy grabbed the bed furthest from the draughty door and sat on Giselle's objections by decisively sitting on the swan like a safe falling on an egg box. Hollow bird bones crunched in a nasty special-effects manner. "With that cabbage substitute I think it's only one meal away, especially if we don't miss it." She had to admit, despite Perfecto hiring trend-setting chefs at the cutting edge of international cuisine, it was the first time she had eaten fluorescent green vegetables.**

** Luanne smoothed out the flattened swan like a mattress and spread her on the hard camp bed, the avian toon's eyes blinking helplessly. "I got me a feather bed!" Luanne announced proudly, bouncing onto it with a feral grin. With Giselle's feather-hands flattened and tied in knots to the frame she would not be able to re-inflate, and was there until someone took pity on her. With nobody around but her Perfecto classmates, that was liable to be awhile.**

** Margot sniffed disdainfully, though the prospect of the hard and rusty metal mesh mattress of her own military issue bed hardly appealed to someone used to silk sheets. She expected the male toons had it no better – with an unexpected pang she suddenly wished they were not off in another building. Danforth would have been body heat if nothing else. He had been busy denouncing his classmates to the guards all day, though so far to little effect.**

** "Makes me wish I'd kept up with the flight exercises." Next to her, the raven Mistine brushed dust off her bed with a black wing. She looked at the mess on her ebony feathers disdainfully. "I could have flown straight out of here back to an airport and home to Perfecto, swept in like a shadow just when nobody expected and beaked Rhubella from behind to get the Last Toon Standing prize myself."**

** "Oh indeed, you could have, and you didn't" Margot's eyes glittered. "Think of that. As it is, you'd maybe get a mile or two across the steppe before splashdown in a lake of catalytic Dip. How we'd all mourn!" She laughed. "You should have worked harder in the gym. And the flight chest muscles that much exercise would have given you … well, you might have got a mammal guy looking at you. Till he recognised his mistake, at least." **

** "And the same goes for you. Why not flap your way and migrate like your ancestors – if you can?" Mistine's sharp beak clicked in derision. "Oh, I forgot. One of your ancestors in the twenties got too friendly with the ice-man – or was it the garbage man? Or both? No flight on that side of the family. Utterly ruined your family's aerodynamics ever since." She preened her slim avian figure haughtily. "You hardly even have any tail-feathers!" Her own ebony tail extended in an elegant fan down to her forward-swept knees.**

** Margot glared at her. Although she had the body feathers and the proper scaled legs of an avian, thanks to a handsome wolf in her gene pool the rest of her body was poorly shaped for flight – it had never been a problem before to someone who was more used to travel by private jet. None of her natural advantages were any value around here, she had discovered – if anyone, Luanne seemed to be in the lead having worked conspicuously hard and skilfully sabotaged many other toons' efforts. She concealed a sigh, knowing the danger of revealing any hint of weakness in the present company. Outside, the stars glittered hard and distant in the clear desert night.**

** "I don't know where the Dip testing range starts out there, but the atmosphere's pretty toxic in here." Margot Mallard strode to the open door, stepped outside and looked up at the bright stars, as she often had from the elegant terraces of Perfecto. It looked as if she would not be seeing that view for awhile. Unobserved for the minute, she allowed herself a sigh. There was one Senior who might be back there now enjoying the senior wing all to herself – unless her skunk girl was there, stinking it out.**

** "Rhubella only has to keep us here a few weeks to win," she shook her head wonderingly. "Or she can write us off permanently and leave us here in the desert to dry up and blow away up like cheap ink. What a Perfecto girl she is! She deserves to win. And what an ally she was." Her beak twisted wryly. For a second she mentally played through how it might have been had she stuck to her non-aggression pact with Rhubella. Even had everyone else been caught up by the Eastern Molvanians, that would still have left her facing Rhubella knowing only one could take the Last Toon Standing prize. Nobody ever said that graduating from Perfecto was easy, regardless of how much money you could throw at the problem.**

**Margot shook her head. "Never underestimate a cornered rat."**

* * *

><p><strong>Back at Acme Acres, despite all the distractions there was still gruelling work to be done for the final exams that were looming. Outside Babs' family burrow, half a dozen toons were enjoying the sunshine between working through last year's exam scripts. The Looniversity always made them available as examples of the kind of things to expect, although every year's exact questions would be different.<strong>

** "All right!" Rhubella looked through the pile of scripts, then around at the cast. "We'll take these at random – and casting is random as well. These dice I confiscated from a Perfecto junior last term." She juggled a pair of plain white plastic cubes expertly.**

** "They're like, rigged?" Shirley asked, the loon's forehead wrinkling slightly. "That'd be mondo bad karma."**

** "No, they're not. That's why we confiscated them. After we tested them he was given extra remedial hazing, used for a tackle target for a month by the American football team and told to get his act together." Rhubella winced inwardly, though at the time it had seemed the perfect punishment for someone dim enough to prefer blind chance to carefully studied calculation. She was acting as referee for the Acme Looniversity crowd, those of whom were here. Fifi, Shirley, Mary and Jaggi were there as were two she had not met before, a mouse named Lightning Rodriguez and Saul, a long-haired sheepdog. **

** Fifi rolled her eyes. "Le sigh. Roll zem bones, Ruby. We 'ave three hours left zis afternoon – eet ees time to be getting down to ze work!" She looked at one of the papers handed to her. "Plucky, 'e would love zis one. But eet 'as been used last year, so 'e will not be tested on '**_**Why a Zombie Holocaust would be a Good Thing**_**". " **

** "The disturbing thing is, it's a romantic comedy." Rhubella nodded. She looked towards the camera and raised an eyebrow. "Who on earth writes these things?"**

** Shirley joined her in looking through the fourth wall. "If I still had my aura, I could like, fire up the crystal ball and find out. But I still get the feeling somebody's watching us."**

* * *

><p>"<strong>You know, even without her aura your daughter is rather impressive." Two miles away, Colonel Fenix watched through Shirley's currently unused crystal ball as the toons ran through the script. It looked as if there would be a lot of broken hearts and eaten brains before the final page. "Miss McLoon, I hope you don't mind too much, my enlisting Shirley. She will be put in harm's way, you know. That's unavoidable, in our business."<strong>

** "Please, call me Melicent." The scene was the garden behind the McLoon family house. Melicent McLoon and Colonel Fenix were lying on sun loungers, relaxing in the shade of a blossoming tulip tree with a pitcher of iced Pimms #1 between them. "I quite understand. Shirley does too." Melicent offered the Colonel a refill, which he gratefully accepted. "Anything to get her mate back. And you were saying, Shirley might get to use all her Acme Looniversity training as well?"**

** "Oh, indeed." Hal Fenix sipped the iced drink reflectively. He was still off-duty until he judged himself fit to head out on the astral plane once more, and was determined to make the most of the downtime. "Melicent - you might wonder how we cover up full-scale Incursions, with whole city blocks demolished and such."**

** "It never makes the news, I've noticed." Melicent smoothed down her feathers, taking in the view. Hal was about halfway in age between her and her daughter, she mused – and Shirley had told her what her aura had thought about him. She could quite see why. **_**Shirley's aura has good taste**_**, she mused, not minding if Hal could read it in her mind. **_**Better than the rest of her – Plucky is a nice enough boy and I'm happy with her choice – but she could do bette**_**r… Making the rank of full Bird Colonel at Hal's age was quite an achievement in any Toon's army. "How do you do it?"**

** Hal laughed, and winked. "Miss Shirley will find out, after she's been sworn into our unit. We don't require her to sign her name on the enlistment form in blood any more, that's so last-year. I can only say – her film education won't be wasted. Not in the slightest."**

** Melicent nodded. "I always worried what starring roles she could find for herself in Hollywood no matter how good a Toon degree she gets. It's rather a niche market that she went in for. Fortune-tellers, mystics, everything like that you can hire any actor for with the right special-effects – and they're rarely the main characters. Her powers – when she has them – are very real. Rather a waste not to use them."**

** "Yes. Oddly enough, we have our own Special Effects department and film team. Again, I can't tell you quite what we need it for. And as for your daughter's powers – I can commence searching for her aura tonight." Hal stretched. "Thank you for the hospitality. I judge I'm strong enough to make a start on that."**

** "Mmm." Melicent McLoon refilled their glasses, and raised hers in a toast. "To friends reunited!" She cast her eyes over the phoenix's bright plumage. Bright feathers were a male thing with avians; some of the girls judged prettiest were coloured in the drabbest hues unlike in mammals and reptiles. "though getting Plucky back will mean losing one of your active troops. I'm told Private Gander has been making the most of his time keeping Plucky's body warm."**

** "That's Corporal Gander, as of today," Hal smiled. "The paperwork came through finally. That's one thing that I could do for him – while he could sign the forms." The phoenix's tail drooped slightly. "With all my abilities, I can't revive his goose body. All I can do is keep him on the company strength and hope someday we'll be able to bring him round."**

** "You certainly have your share of dangers, in your work." Melicent nodded towards the clearing where Unit Four Plus Two was camped. There came the sounds of terrifying howls and screams as Sergeant Macree tore apart another bayonet dummy with his bare claws, threw his head back and laughed deliriously. His thinking-mind dog twitched an ear, decided there was nothing much to translate and went back to the biography of Kierkegaard he was writing. **

** "I can't deny it. Sergeant Macree took third-degree Sanity loss last year – fortunately, the bits of his brain that make him an effective soldier weren't damaged. That was the Peoria Incident – the full facts of which are so hideous that they will never be revealed – not even to the toons who were there!" He winked. "Oh, and a few mass-market paperbacks and low budget documentary DVDs released direct to landfill. That way nobody takes it seriously."**

** Melicent gave a wry smile. "My little Shirley, joining up. As her teachers keep telling her, "expect the unexpected" – but even when she had her powers I don't think she spotted that future coming up. By tradition, when the female of the pair announces she's full of unexpected eggs, is it not the male who runs away and joins the army?"**

** "The world's full of surprises," Hal agreed. "Would you believe, Sergeant Macree used to be our healer? Technically he's a medic, but he generally used abilities you won't find in the official first aid manual." The phoenix shook his head. "That's something he has lost, along with eighty-two percent sanity. He was one of the best, too. If he was still available, I'd have set him on working on Corporal Gander. He might have had a chance to heal him enough for regular medicine to get to work. It would have needed so much energy though – enough to risk burning a toon's talents out permanently."**

** "Well, we can only do our best with what we've got." Melicent smiled wistfully. "That's something I'm glad to see Shirley's learned. Though after she lost her aura … I do think she tried a little too hard to be good at being a "normal" girl." Lipstick and beaks really did not go together, she reminded herself. Presumably it had been something Shirley had seen in Plucky's subconscious in the days of her aura, and brought out in an attempt to please him. "The trouble is with making folks' dreams come true – is when it falls flat. Then they're left without even the dream any more."**

** "Be careful what you wish for, you might get it." Hal stood and stretched. "Maybe I could wish for a nice quiet week at work for once, with nothing breaking in from Dimension X?"**

** They both laughed. Melicent smoothed her 1950's styled sweater down, contemplating. "There's that phrase they always use in Shirley's classes, '**_**Expect the Unexpected.**_**' If even that's got limits of its own, I expect that's probably one of them!"**

* * *

><p><strong>Far out in a direction difficult to describe, two figures converged at the top of what would have been an atmosphere had there been any actual air involved. To Shirley's aura, she was approaching the ethereal mystery of the Eleventh Veil, beyond which all earthly corruptions never applied – a realm of pure mind and energy. The passage there had been a difficult one, requiring all her powers and energies. Where she would soon be, energy would be all and base matter forever left behind. The veil stretched above her, serene and inviting. For an instant she looked back, down to the messy confusion of the Tenth Veil, the churning entrance to the spirit plane storm-wracked with disturbances from the material world like messy, polluted thunderclouds far below the first of the Crystal Spheres. <strong>

** Shirley's aura looked down, for what she expected to be the last time – and saw the very last thing she would have expected to see.**

"**Hang on – I'm almost there!" To Plucky, there was no Crystal Sphere with the promise of endless realms beyond. He knew he was in a place he had no right to be or ability to stay – but that had never stopped him in anything before. To his vision he had fired the last of the fuel in the engines in a single extravagant burn and headed up in a zoom climb till the engines choked in the near vacuum and the control surfaces no longer responded. He had a few seconds left of climbing on momentum, his canard-winged astral plane already beginning to gently tumble as he left the furthest corner of the flight envelope. But it was enough – he was with Shirley again.**

** "Plucky? What are you Doing here?" Incongruously enough, what he saw of Shirley's form was no spacecraft but just her familiar blue glowing aura, exactly as he knew it at Acme Acres.**

** "Shirley. I'm here. You're not leaving without me." The mallard locked eyes on the loon's form, knowing he had only a few seconds before he began to topple back out of control. "Where you go, I go."**

** "Like, gah!" It was not the greatest of philosophical statements, but heartfelt. Shirley's aura took in the situation and winced. "You're here – all of you! You've left nothing behind and you can't get back! You stupid, stupid… brave, stupid bird!"**

** "Like I said – not without you." Despite himself, Plucky felt a wry smile on his beak in a way that did not translate too well with his aircraft form. **

** Shirley cast a glimpse up at the Eleventh Veil. Her mallard's energies were exhausted, and he would be an impossible weight to drag with her through the barrier. Even if she did so – her earthly form would have lost him forever. She had gladly left her toon form behind to enjoy a natural lifetime of all the gross physical things she had started taking such a liking to – but leaving herself a widow was not part of the plan. And Plucky had brought every last feather's worth of himself out to find her.**

** "Shirl! I can't stay airborne!" For an instant Plucky's voice cracked in panic. He was a stalling jet fighter at a height and a speed above the atmosphere that only a Space Shuttle was designed to cope with. Re-entry was not going to be too pleasant if indeed survivable. If he reached the mortal ground at all it would be crashing out of fuel in the darkness, right in something like the middle of the Pacific.**

** Shirley's aura grabbed him, the mallard's high-tech shape transforming into the palely green avian she had escorted so many times across the safe lower levels of that place. "You big lunk!" She held him tight. "You've so totally ruined everything!"**

** Plucky gave a sheepish grin. "Do I ever take half measures? All or nothing for this green duck, you know. And that's what I want to bring home. All of you."**

** Shirley felt her momentum slowing, as she held onto the depleted duck. "This is not the time for high-energy metaphysics lessons, okay? If I drop you from here – you'll break like an egg fallen out of the nest onto concrete pavement." She shuddered at that image – for some reason it hit her deeper than she thought it could. "And if I don't – we're both going down."**

** "You're coming home?" Plucky looked into the glowing powder-blue eyes. **

** The loon sighed. "Let me break this to you gently… because it's the last gentle thing we're going to get for awhile." She searched the green mallard's mind for a suitable expression. "What happens to a satellite when it fails to reach orbit?"**

** "Oh, that's an easy one, Shirl," Plucky's bill jutted with pride. "It's still doing at least 17,000 miles an hour. If it's not designed for re-entry, it falls back into the atmosphere like meteor. Ka-pow! Light show! Breaks up in the ionosphere, debris scattered halfway across a continent!"**

** Shirley's aura hugged him tight. She took stock of her available energies, and to Plucky's eyes re-shaped them into something like a heat shield around them both. There was already a slight buffeting as the more material parts of the astral plane began to press against it. **

** "I still think that console game of yours "Retro Rocket Rumble" is way mondo gross," she sighed. "Punching first-generation warheads at each other's cities – so uncool. But I'm glad you're used to the ideas. Because you and me, Plucky, that's just the way we're going in!"**

End Chapter Nine


	10. Chapter 10

Simon Barber Loonquest: The Adventure Game(bird) – a Tiny Toons Tale 16

**Chapter Ten**

**In the city of Acme Acres, something stirred where nothing was expected to move. There was a spot that had been a working scrapyard for twenty years and an abandoned one for five; currently it was empty, every last rusty nut and bolt having gone to recycling leaving only bare ground with a few oily puddles. Around the ragged fence were new hoardings proclaiming '**_**Drake Holdings – No Trespassing**_**'. For nearly two weeks there had been nothing happening at all apart from special-effect tumbleweeds blowing around regardless of the distance to the nearest desert. **

** As midnight struck in the sleeping city, something happened. A cold light began to shine from the ground, growing into a tower of chill flame a hundred yards high, with disturbing shapes half-glimpsed deep within it. A minute later, police and late-walking pedestrians began to dial in alarm calls.**

**Being mayor of a city whose inhabitants often settled minor disputes with grossly over-powered ACME props quite capable of rearranging the landscape, was never an easy job.**

** "All right, what is it this time?" Mayor Warner (no relation) snapped as he stepped out of the hastily summoned limousine, the toon bulldog wearing his mayoral gold chain over a shocking plaid dressing gown. "Who's responsible for this, and what are we doing to them about it?"**

** The police toon scratched his head as he looked up at the menacing column of swirling light. "Looks like what they had over by Perfecto Prep last week."**

** "That's out of City limits and my jurisdiction," the Mayor barked. "What did they do about it?"**

** "Called in a special Government unit and fixed it, Sir," the Police toon mused "In fact I've heard unofficially they're still in the area."**

** "Right! Find them and get them here on the double." Mayor Warner looked up at the sinister light show. Half-seen faces and other parts were visible as if deep underwater – and from what he could see, they were nothing he wanted to surface in his City. He tore his gaze away and looked at the less sanity-sapping hoardings around the site. "I remember this place. We had it on our books for years, and nothing like this ever happened. Then this Danforth Drake from Perfecto buys it, cash, with all rights and liabilities. Now look at it."**

** "You think he's behind this? Looks mighty circumstantial to me." The Police toon frowned.**

** "That doesn't matter. We can get him for it anyway." Mayor Warner smiled, rubbing his paws together. "I've not forgotten what they taught me back at Perfecto. 'All liabilities' means just that – never mind if he did it, we can sue the feathers off him regardless!"**

** On a rooftop overlooking the Event, an avian figure gave a brief smile as the Mayor ordered an immediate call-out of the City's fanatical lawyers. If there was one thing in the cosmos that could carry more impersonal spite than a lawyer, it was one who had been woken and set to work at two in the morning.**

* * *

><p><strong>The strange events in the city centre did not reach the ears of the scrapyard's former inhabitant. Fifi Lafume awoke that Friday morning in her new home adjoining the Bunny household, and felt her heart pounding as soon as she remembered what day it was.<strong>

** "Ruby," she stroked Rhubella's cheek ruffs lovingly as the rodent beside her awoke. "'Zis ees ze day! We 'ave a date with ze judge to be married – zat or I 'ave ze date with ze airport. Back to France with no Toon degree for poor Fifi."**

** Rhubella pulled her close, kissing her skunkette's broad nose. "If you were heading back – it'd be a shame to waste these." She opened the bedside cabinet drawer and pulled out two small velvet-lined boxes. Opening them on the bed revealed a pair of matching plain gold wedding rings.**

** Fifi gasped. Wordlessly she hugged her rodent girlfriend tight, her eyes shining. Suddenly she giggled. "Zhere ees only one bad thing with zis – ees it not bad luck for ze bridegroom to see ze bride on ze morning of ze wedding?"**

** Rhubella beeped her nose playfully. "Fifi – we never did decide which of us counts as the bridegroom. Who needs one? We can say – it's you and me, and that's all we need."**

** Fifi squeezed her affectionately, and took a deep breath. "Zen today is our wedding day, mon amour." For a second her ears dipped. "Eet ees now or nevair. But … I would 'ave liked more time, for ze proper traditions. For Babs we will be doubly 'appy; she 'as Bustair ze buck of 'er dreams, ze white dress and all ze trimmings."**

** "She's a rabbit, she could prune a hedge and eat the trimmings," Rhubella mused. Her own ears drooped a little. "I wish there was time for our families to get here. But this is our last chance – unless Babs' plan serves up Danforth oven-ready by this afternoon." She paused. "Our last chance – do you want to take it, Fifi?"**

** The skunkette hugged her by way of reply. "Oh oui, Ruby. Zis night we weel celebrate being Madame et Madame Lafume." She snorted. "But we weel 'ave ze second wedding feast – ze day we get Perfecto roast duck on our table!"**

* * *

><p><strong>Had Rhubella and Fifi been able to see Danforth at that moment they would have been comforted greatly – certainly that would have been the only comfort around for miles.<strong>

** "Make-quick, worthless Western trash-toons!" OverCaptainCommissar Karrotovitch slapped her boot with the long riding-crop that seemed as much part of her uniform as the mirror-fronted helmet. "Wind is stronger getting – must seal tight buildings before is getting here!"**

** "They won't tell us what's coming. But I bet it's not Christmas," Danforth grunted, reaching up with a reel of adhesive tape to seal a crack above the barrack windows on the KazakhsToon desert.**

** "Danny-boy, are you half Sports-scholar or something, like from the neck up?" Roderick Rat hissed, his naked tail swishing as he hurriedly pressed sealant into a gaping crack in the floor. "We know what they've got out here. They tested Dip, catalytic Dip back in the 1950's. That stuff doesn't go away."**

** "Maybe it gets buried for years under the sand, till a storm like this one starts it moving again," Margot added. "It goes mobile – and if it gets in here we just – go. So get busy! At least these Toons don't want to waste us."**

** "Until they want to spend us," Roderick snapped. "Get me more tape – now!"**

** Outside, the desert wind began to howl. Danforth's beak twisted in a crafty smile he was careful not to let the others see. There was a far side to this desert somewhere, and the wind was crossing it at a mile a minute. It would be safer to be on the wind travelling ahead of the Catalytic Dip than to stay here and trust in the warped, cracked timber of the barracks. A plan began to form.**

** Ten minutes later a cracked-sounding siren sounded outside. The small bunny troops and officers vanished towards their own, much better built accommodation leaving the Perfecto seniors frantically running around trying to find any remaining cracks by the dim light of their one electric bulb per block.**

** "That's the last of the tape. It's not as tight as a Hollywood lawyer's wallet – but it's the best we can do." Roderick threw down the empty reel and stepped back to examine the sealed main door.**

** Suddenly there was a hammering on the far side of it. "I've finished out here – now let me in!" Danforth's voice had a note of panic in it.**

** The Perfectos looked at each other. Some snickered.**

** "No can do, Danny-boy," Hans von Haflinger called out. "We're all out of tape. We open that door, we can't seal it again. The dip gets in, and we all lose."**

** Margot Mallard looked pensive for a second, thinking back on all she and the drake had been to each other. She brightened up recalling that if she ever got out of here and back to Perfecto, she knew where Danforth had hidden a lot of his assets – naturally assuming he would not be around to collect them himself.**

** "Sorry, Danforth … it's just … Business." Margot cast her gaze shrewdly over the toons who were on the right side of the door. "Roderick," she whispered seductively "I don't suppose you could … comfort me in my hour of loss?" She winked.**

** Roderick grinned, putting an arm around her feathered shoulder. "Any way you want… dear."**

**Outside, Danforth was surprisingly far from panic. "Now's my chance." He scrambled up to the top of a storage hut, spread his wings and ran into the wind – and took off.**

_**It always pays to have tricks they don't know about**_**, he smiled to himself as he circled to head downwind. Now was the perfect time – no guards around, and if the area was about to be doused in Dip – they wouldn't even look for anyone who had been caught outside. **_**Never throw away your natural advantages**_**. He panted hard as he gained height, wings flapping hard and checking his course by the hazy sun. He had always practiced this at home in the holidays, and in five years at Perfecto never let any of his classmates suspect it – especially not Margot. True, he had crashed like a rock when that skunk had thrown him out of the sixth story window – but launched backwards and upside-down as he had been, any aircraft would have needed a lot more altitude to get back into controlled flight.**

** "I've clocked thirty miles an hour on the marked course at home - wind's easily sixty, with faster gusts. Two miles every three minutes. Not bad." Danforth did not turn his head, but his thoughts flashed back for an instant to the classmates he was leaving to their fate. It had been fun and mutually profitable – but if the Eastern Molvanian foreign legion needed a motto, 'No Future' would fit.**

** "I've kept aloft three hours, in practice," he reminded himself as the miles of sand slipped past below him. "Somehow I'll get back to Perfecto. A little well-deserved pest control on that rat and – then we'll see who takes Last Toon Standing!"**

* * *

><p><strong>Back at the dilapidated barracks an hour or so later, a certain OverCaptainCommissar relaxed as the wind began to slacken. She checked the lights were still glowing on a distinctly home-made electronic jamming device that Calamity Coyote had built for them. It would never do for the Perfectos to manage to call home, or use their T-pads to look up any real facts about Eastern Molvania.<strong>

** "Have we scared them enough yet – or do you want another go? What can we try next time?" Her fellow officer took off his mirror-fronted black helmet to reveal blue and white features the Perfectos would have instantly recognised.**

** "Revenge is a dish best served cold – with a side-order of carrot salad," the feared OverCaptainCommissar mused, removing her own helmet and massaging pink ears back into shape. She looked at the guide to effective management methods she had confiscated from Hans von Haflinger. "Not a Girl Guide book, this. Lists all sorts of intimidation techniques; **_**Ego Up, Ego Down, Fear Up Mild, Fear Up Harsh **_**…" she posed dramatically. "Do you like my fear up... or down?"**

** "It makes a change from nothing but wacky comedy," Buster noted. "A good drama role is something we've always wanted. And we're getting class marks for it too."**

** "Hey! Watching the Perfectos turn on each other like rabid weasels makes good comedy in my book," Babs objected. "They wouldn't see the funny side – but they never do." She snickered. "That OverCaptainCommissar is such a bitch!" She slapped her boot with her riding crop. "It does make a change from playing helpless Southern belles, though."**

** "Works for me." Buster shrugged. He looked at his watch. "Time to start bringing down the curtain on this show, Babs-o-vitch. Fifi has a deadline, remember?"**

** "And I was having so much fun," Babs sighed. Suddenly her ears went up. "Buster – I just thought of something!"**

** "Miracles never cease." Buster ducked the playfully swung helmet. "So, Fearsome Leader, what is it this time?"**

** "Well… to get Fifi off the hook we only need Danforth. The others we could just – leave here?" Babs looked up innocently wide-eyed. "I'm sure they'd get home somehow. Someday."**

** "Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch of toons." Buster considered the matter, and frowned. "But no, because that's just what they'd do – to us."**

** "Oh, phooey. And they would." Babs was silent for a few seconds. "But the real Perfecto thing would be to contact the junior years and find out how much they'd pay for us to keep Roddy and the rest out of circulation." She blinked, her eyes widening in alarm. "It must be contagious! I'm picking up Perfecto-itis – so we'll have to quarantine them anyway for the good of the planet!"**

** "Nice try, but no chocolate cigar," Buster stood, stretching. "We'll try that 'Fear down mild' – Henri can ease up on the Special Effects." On the other side of the nearest upwind sand dune, the healthy young skunk had been adding a little extra to the desert wind – causing the Perfectos to panic and look for the gas leaks when the pungent aroma seeped into their huts. Several had already been malleted flat for possession of their hut's last roll of duct tape.**

** "Henri. Yes. You can tell him, Buster." A sour expression was on Babs' face, though she admitted Henri had done nothing wrong. On the last "night shift" home she had discovered to her horror that her cherished double bed had been swapped with Bonnie's single one – who, as their mother pointed out, had more need of it. There was nothing Babs could say against the swap, or the subtle ways Bonnie was being treated as the senior daughter now – it was by tradition "a bunny thing" and not to be argued with.**

** Buster stretched. "I will. Then before we close the show, you can go and shout at the Perfectos some more. Make the most of it, before we bring down the curtain." The plan was for Buster undisguised to tunnel up in front of the Perfectos having apparently '**_**taken a wrong turn at Semipalatinsk'**_** and announce a bidding war for one ticket back to Acme Acres. Whatever the rest bid, Danforth would win by writing off Fifi's debts. "Somehow" a notarised document was already in his Toon pocket ready to sign.**

** "All right! Shouting!" Babs' ears perked up. She grinned and beckoned to her four oldest siblings, clad in the outfits she had taught them all to spin-change into. Toon rabbits were a very poor market for clothing shops. "Mortimer, Benny, Jenny, Katy – let's get out there and make the Eastern Molvanian Foreign legion jump!"**

** An hour later they returned, tired and dusty from having fruitlessly (and duck-lessly) searched the whole camp and surroundings. Babs' ears were drooping. "Well, isn't that just ducky," she said bitterly, throwing her mirror-fronted helmet down with a clang. "The first time anybody – ever – has wanted to find that duck – he's ducked out on us!"**

* * *

><p><strong>Although Danforth had no exact idea where he was either, there was a moving spot on the map of KazakhsToon somewhere that pinpointed his position second by second. For two other waterfowl, things were not so simple.<strong>

** "So, Shirl, just what do you see down there?" Plucky asked curiously. He had heard Shirley describe the abstract harmonies of the upper spirit plane many times, and was amazed she had got it all wrong. To him, they were two craft docked together in low orbit – very low orbit. The curve of the atmosphere was almost level with their beaks, and a slight buffeting showed they were already heading into it.**

** Shirley sighed. "I see the Tenth Veil. It's the threshold of the material world, and it's a mess. All mortal needs, desires and totally unbalanced emotions distort it. Like looking at low cloud over an industrial city – you can't see through it but there's thermals and smoke rising out of it, you know?" She raised her eyes the other direction to where the Eleventh Veil rose in a pristine arch, now out of reach.**

"**So – how do we get from here back to our fine feathered bodies?" Plucky poked the immaterial shield Shirley had placed around both their auras. "I don't see any wings or steering jets on this hayride."**

** Shirley looked into his eyes. "Plucky. When you like pollute your karma playing that way gross "Retro Rocket Rumble" – what happens when you throw some hideous nuclear guano in a re-entry vehicle at some Toon's's home city – probably because you don't like their socks, or some junk?" She had watched Plucky on his Numbmindo box often enough to worry if there was such a thing as 'passive gaming'.**

** "Whoo-hoo! Atlas warhead! Retro-tech or what?" Plucky's eyes lit with delight. "That's a blunt, chunky piece of copper slamming straight into the atmosphere, pulling a hundred G's right the way down! White-hot metal vapour boiling off all the way, streaking right across the skies – radar sees it halfway across the continent, that's the only downside." Suddenly he stopped enthusing, and blinked. "Uh-oh. You mean – that's going to be us?"**

** Shirley nodded. A slight smile appeared on her beak. "That's us. And Plucky? Later – if we get a later – you and I are going to have a long talk about why Miltech stimulates your basal chakra, 'kay?"**

**Strangely enough, it was Plucky's vision of the spirit world that came closest to the facts. The two plummeting auras might not be leaving a brilliant trail of vaporised copper visible halfway across the skies – but in some ways the results were similar.**

** "Whoa! Incoming!" Hal Fenix had been astral travelling for an hour, having left his body in the care of Melicent McLoon. Although a phoenix feather would have been immensely valuable to the sorceress, he had read her aura and trusted her to look after the complete collection. There were other parts of a healthy male phoenix that she had not tried to hide her interest in using – and not for spell components.**

** All this took a fraction of a second to pass through his head. He studied the incoming auras; they were definitely heading back to the material plane. Hal calculated the equivalents of speed and trajectory, and his ethereal feathers bristled. "They are coming in hot. Stuff me for a Thanksgiving turkey, but they are coming in white-hot!" He had not measured exactly how much energy Shirley's physical form could absorb, and indeed it hardly mattered. About a thousand times as much was about to hit it.**

** "If Plucky's ego had mass, she's a space shuttle trying to land with a twenty metre nickel-iron asteroid on board. She can't do it. Nobody could." Hal was anchored to his material form by his astral cord, stretching all the way back to Acme Acres. Shirley's aura had strangely enough been independent of her body that way and as for Plucky … "He took everything with him, including the kitchen sink. And the water pipes. That's an amazing psychic feat, or perhaps just dumb luck and worse judgement. Hardly matters now." Astral cords slowed travellers down, but were helpful as speed-brakes – something both Plucky and Shirley lacked.**

** Hal Fenix had not survived in his job, much less risen so high in it, without a prodigious talent for fast thinking on the wing. The image flashed before him of an aircraft coming in impossibly fast and overloaded – what would it take to slow it down? Something like a miles-long runway flooded with foam, and some form of net to soak up the impact at the end of it. What could he find at short notice to do the job?**

** Suddenly something clicked. Hal looked up – Shirley was forty minutes away; if all went well he just had time to get everything in position before they crashed and burned on the material plane.**

** "And if all goes very well indeed," Hal noted as he recoiled at full speed along his astral cord towards his body "We will – and we hopefully won't – kill two birds with one stone."**

* * *

><p><strong>Back at Acme Acres, a green duck suddenly jerked as if he had touched an electric fence.<strong>

** "What's wrong?" Maria Mandarin leaned over him in alarm. They had just finished a fine picnic after a morning's swimming in Lake Acme.**

** Clarke Gander held his head upright as if listening intently. He nodded, turning to Maria. "Duty calls. Everyone to assemble at the Loon household, immediate." He took Maria's pale green finger-feathers in his own, and looked into her eyes. "Maria – I think it's time. I think someone's coming home and wants this body back. There's only room for one in here." **

** Maria looked at him, resisting the urge to run her finger down his green feathers. He, or rather Plucky's body, was already an inch or so taller. "You can't … take turns? Like working night shift?"**

** Clarke shook his head sadly. "This body's already started to change, with the time I've been in it. In a few more weeks – it'd be too late. We always knew I'd have to go."**

** Maria grimaced, then determinedly started to pick up their clothes and the empty picnic basket from the beach. "Well. As long as you're … here, I'm staying with you."**

** Hand in feather-hand, the two waterfowl left the lakeside and headed uphill towards Shirley's family house.**

* * *

><p>"<strong>Sir, no Sir! That is an illegal order and I cannot obey it!" Ten minutes later Clarke stood rigidly, aghast at what he had just been asked to do. "Parasitic tapping is not something we do – it is something we spot the bad guys doing a mile away and proceed against with extreme prejudice, Sir!"<strong>

** Hal Fenix sighed patiently. "Perfectly true, Corporal, in most circumstances. These are not usual circumstances." He flashed a smile at Shirley, who was pointedly ignoring Maria Mandarin hugging her mallard's body tight. "Tell him, Miss McLoon."**

** "It's a way uncool Energy Vampire thing, fer sure." Shirley wore makeup now; lipstick on her beak and a sweater that was discreetly padded. Next to Maria Mandarin's natural advantages she had to admit it was a pointless exercise. "But that's what we'll need. It's a Potential Energy thing, right?" She hesitated, and pointed at the line of high-voltage pylons in the distance. "My aura gets back carrying that charge and … it'd be like plugging a pocket torch bulb direct into those pylons. I'm the light bulb. Pop."**

** Maria winced. "And the same for poor Plucky."**

** Shirley cast her a sharp glance, and nodded curtly. "Exact-o-mundo. Someone has to drain off the surge or we're talking total orgone overload city here."**

** "And you can do it, Corporal!" Hal clapped Clarke on the back. "Though you'll need help. We also need a mind with… something like twenty miles of empty lakebed to land a pair of incoming auras on." He gestured to Sergeant Macree's Thinking Mind dog, who put down the half-done book of 3-D Sudoku puzzles and trotted over obediently. "Now, this is what I want you to do …"**

* * *

><p>"<strong>What a wild ride!" Somewhere approaching the Tenth Astral Veil (as one of the waterfowl auras saw it) or streaking into the top of the atmosphere at twenty miles a second (according to the other one) things were heating up. "Whoo-hoo! Just look at the shockwave!" Plucky's aura rematerialized in baggy surfing shorts, balancing on Shirley's protective aura like a surfboard. "Nobody ever rode a wave like this one!"<strong>

** "Get crucial, Plucky … that's me you're standing on. I lose focus for an instant here and we're wholemeal toast, 'kay?" Shirley's pale aura looked up at the irrepressible duck, unable to hide a smile. In this place there was no possibility of deception; thoughts were action and substance.**

** "But what a way to go … talk about Fourth of July! We'd light up the skies – if there was anyone here to see it." Plucky paused, looking down. "Say – there is someone around. Looks like he's out for a spacewalk too."**

** Shirley's aura followed his gaze. Suddenly she recognised just what she was looking at – a familiar Phoenix aura now tuning into their wavelength. No doubt to Plucky his astral cord looked like an astronaut's tether snaking off into the distance.**

** "Oh yeah. That big stiff again. Bets, that he's come to gloat as we crash and burn?" Evidently Plucky recognised Colonel Fenix too.**

** "Plucky!" Shirley's aura squawked in outrage. The phoenix was a wonder to behold, his aura like a perfect gemstone flashing a thousand nameless colours as it reflected all the energies of the astral plane. The swamp-dwelling duck spirit she was carrying suddenly felt more like a rather slimy green boulder.**

** Glad to meet you! Colonel Fenix matched courses, his voice resonating like an opera singer's in a well-designed auditorium. We haven't much time - you're approaching the Tenth Veil fast, you'll be throwing up too much disturbance to talk then.**

** "Radio blackout on re-entry. Check," Plucky nodded.**

** Something like that. You could say I've got the runway cleared and the crash trucks standing by Hal turned to address Shirley's aura. You're a little out of tune for re-entering your bodies, they've changed a bit since you left them. I need to give you a nudge – like so. That's you set on course. Expect things to happen fast now. I'll see you on the far side of the Veil.**

** "You're not going to guide us in?" The pale blue eyes of Shirley's aura widened. "I could always bring Plucky home before."**

** That was like catching a baseball. This is like catching an anvil dropped from eighty stories up Hal winced slightly. Get ready! Next stop, Acme Acres. With that he was gone, snapping back along his astral cord like a stretched and released elastic band.**

** "Well, isn't that just ducky," Plucky's voice dripped sarcasm. "The cavalry aren't meant to run away just when you need them."**

** Shirley's astral shield suddenly began to glow white-hot as they entered the Veil, and she had no concentration spare to snap back a suitably sarcastic reply. Which was probably just as well.**

* * *

><p>"<strong>They're coming in!" Hal Fenix snapped out of his trance, looking around Shirley's back yard. For a second as he tuned back in he relaxed, relishing in the sensations of a physical body. There was a camomile lawn nearby, and its fragrance scented the air. <strong>

** "Ah, I done brung him like what you said, Colonel," Corporal Kaolin snapped a salute off. He had unloaded the black helicopter and wheeled over the life-support unit containing an inert goose body.**

** Shirley blinked. "I totally don't get it. What's with the mortal form? Doesn't Clarke only have to be within a thousand paces or some junk?" Clarke Gander had been visiting his comatose body for an hour a night while Plucky's body rested asleep in Maria's feather-arms, to keep it from fading out as Plucky's chromoplasm had so nearly done.**

** Her mother smiled. "Just a little extra dear Hal and I thought up when we put our heads together. No harm done if it doesn't work. If it does – we'll see."**

** "Macree! Gander! To positions!" Colonel Fenix was suddenly all business. He gestured to the vulture who opened the casket, and with the aid of his Thinking Mind dog the insane mink put his paw on the still, white-feathered brow.**

** Clarke walked stiffly over towards his goose body and looked down on it. He turned to face Maria Mandarin. "Maria? I have to – leave this body to fill in some of the gaps in Patrick here. He nodded towards the drooling mink. "If this doesn't work – I want you to do something for me."**

** Maria nodded wordlessly.**

** Clarke took a deep breath. "Pull the plugs, on this body. The Colonel's agreed to write it up as an accident. I'm not going back to being a wandering spirit. And Patrick can dine on goose this week. He was a friend."**

** Maria's eyes went wide in shock. "There's got to be some other way!"**

** "I wish. I hope we meet again, Maria, in some other time and some other place. Till then – three, two, one, mark!" The light went out in Plucky's eyes and the green duck body slumped unconscious. Maria and Shirley both jumped to catch him, all rivalry forgotten.**

** "Places, please." A new voice spoke. It was the first coherent sound they had heard out of the big mink. He winked at Maria. "You'd better stand clear. That body should be fine – it wouldn't start to fade again for days. This should be over fast, one way or another."**

** For a few seconds all was still. Suddenly Shirley looked down and saw her mood ring starting to glow. Without her aura, it had been a piece of Psycurium as inert as Clarke Gander's goose body. "She's here…" she announced.**

** Maria looked up as if expecting to see two figures dropping from the sky. Suddenly the clearing erupted in a swirling tornado of white light! Shirley's body was a searing shape like a statue of burning magnesium, too bright for look at – and with every second the light increased.**

** "Power Tap – going in NOW!" Macree's voice shouted above the storm's fury. The mink slapped a paw on Shirley's glowing forehead and pressed the other on the inert goose body. His mink form began to glow as if it had caught light from the psychic flame. There was a scent of scorching fur and feathers. Suddenly a wave of force swept across the clearing, throwing everyone flat on their backs. The light faded.**

** A few seconds of silence reigned. A green duck shape was the first to struggle to his feet. "Say!" Plucky's voice was unmistakeable. "Who's been burning tail-feathers around here?"**

** Shirley hugged him. Her eyes had their familiar blue glow showing her aura was back in residence – but only for a second. That aura jumped back out of her feathered form with an expression of shock and disgust, as if it had stepped into an inviting-looking hot shower and the water had suddenly turned icy cold.**

** You did WHAT? Everyone in the clearing felt their skulls rattle with the force of the psychic shout. I head out for one week! I come back to a flesh-eating, egg-laden militarist wearing make-up and fake mammal boobs!**

** Shirley's solid form stuck her beak in the air defiantly. She ran her fingers down the front of her pink sweater. "It's only light padding – we wore as much in our first prom gown, and you didn't get negative about it then. I joined up with Colonel Fenix to save Plucky's life – and our eggs are telling me they need the meat to build theirs, 'kay?"**

** Plucky's eyes bulged to melon size in a fine wild take. "You're carrying somebody's eggs? Say it isn't so, Shirley." He bowed his head. "Whose?"**

** For a second Shirley and her aura smiled at him in sync. Oh, Plucky… everyone heard her aura's mental caressing voice you'll just have to find whoever was on shift that night at the battery henhouse.**

** Plucky fainted dead away.**

** The mink stood up, holding his head and moaning. He gave an unintelligible snarl.**

** "Ahem. He is very keen to know who has been using his brain as an armoured division's testing range," the Thinking-Mind dog put in quietly. There was another snarl, ending in a howl. "Oh yes. He earnestly desires to eat you all with fava beans, and a light Chianti." **

** Maria Mandarin had been watching it all, and looked down at a still goose shape in the medical cabinet. "It's over. And Clarke's … gone." She pressed herself feather to feather against the comatose goose and kissed his beak, long and hard.**

** "The "**_**Sleeping Beauty gambit**_**" – well, it can't hurt to try," Melicent McLoon murmured. "After all, he is a Toon. Such things work by their own logic."**

** A minute later Maria let his body go. She sighed. "Goodbye, Clarke. I'll – do what you wanted. Set you free of this." She looked across to Hal Fenix, who nodded solemnly – and uncaged the big red master power switch inside the casket. It was clearly marked **_**Do Not switch off when support unit occupied **_**– and she turned it off. She turned away from the others, hiding her tears.**

** A few seconds later something rose from the casket behind her.**

** "Look out!" Hal shouted in alarm "It's all gone wrong – he's risen as a vampire! We'll have to stake him!" As everyone turned in horror, he winked roguishly. "Just kidding, folks. Welcome back, Corporal Gander."**

** "Hal Fenix," Melicent playfully readied a "hotfoot" spell. "You and your sense of humour. Are you sure you never went to Acme Loo? You'd have been in class about seven years after me and dear Wile-E Coyote graduated."**

** "It'd have been fun, I'm sure," Hal mused "But sadly, no. I have been told my sense of humour has cost me a promotion or two – but hey! If I had a General's stars I'd be stuck behind a desk all day and miss out on all the fun like this!"**

** "Fun, he calls it," Plucky grumbled. He was being tended by both Shirley and her aura. "So, Colonel Wise-guy, just what happened here?"**

** "A little something I cooked up with the able help of the charming Miss McLoon Senior, here," Hal cast Melicent a smile, which was returned with interest. "I had to tap off all that surplus orgone energy – and it'd be a shame to waste it. Poor Sergeant Macree used to use that as a healer – sadly he lost the ability with his injuries. All the tools were still in there somewhere, but the workman was out to lunch." **

** "Put someone else in the driving seat and give them that much energy, you hardly need technique to get … a Heal Plus with lots of dice rolls, you might say." Melicent mused. She cast a minor spell. "Someone else is very keen on the idea."**

** A glowing figure became visible – the canine retriever whose inert body was still in the other casket. He tapped at Hal's shoulder.**

** Hal looked at him, and his feathers drooped slightly. "Not today, Lewis. At least we know how to do it now. Next time it'll be your turn – as soon as we can find and harness another power surge like that."**

** "Didn't you say that sort of thing was totally illegal?" Maria whispered to Clarke, looking up at the tall goose. Somehow she immediately recognised him despite the different body – other differences she looked forwards to getting familiar with.**

** "Unless in a very good cause," Clarke whispered back. "I expect Colonel Fenix is going to start looking for a good cause or two."**

** "Two? Oh. Of course." Maria blushed, looking at the slavering mink. "Sergeant Macree. I suppose it's "Physician heal thyself" for him."**

** Meanwhile, Plucky was in something of a tug-of-war between Shirley and her aura. Everyone had seen the loon's aura act independently of her feathered material form before, but never in opposition.**

** "Something of a '**_**ménage a trois'**_** there – really it is, rather than a '**_**ménage a deux et demi'**_** as you might think" Melicent whispered, looking on from where she sat next to Hal.**

** "I was meaning to ask about that," Hal kept his voice quiet. "I took a good look at Shirley's aura, out beyond the Tenth Veil." He paused. "It's not really hers, is it? Not in the way most people have one."**

** Melicent looked faintly embarrassed. "I've never told Shirley this. I was hoping she'd work it out by now – or She would," she nodded towards the blue glowing form. "When I carried her egg it was double-yolked. Normally that would just have meant twins when it hatched."**

** "But in our business a lot of abnormal things happen – quite normally, really," Hal nodded. "What happened?"**

** Melicent sighed. "There's things everyone knows you shouldn't do while carrying an egg – entering kickboxing tournaments, binging on alcohol, that sort of thing. I'll have to add, 'high-energy experimental sorcery' to the list. A spell I was researching backfired. The yield was ten times anything I expected… I don't exactly know what it did but – when the egg hatched, there was only one hatchling in it. At least, on the material plane."**

** "Fascinating." Hal's eyebrow rose. "I don't know if there's a word for that but – her 'Aura' is really more like her Siamese twin?"**

** "Yes. Born directly beyond the Tenth Veil. She has no separate body, and definitely has a mind of her own but it's almost always – overlapped with Shirley, very like a spiritual Siamese Twin. Until now."**

** "So I see." Hal turned to watch as the two loons squared off against each other. It would have been rude to eavesdrop on their argument, but with the mental shouting they were doing, it would take a deliberate shield not to hear them.**

** I cannot believe you let this happen to us! Shirley's aura was radiating shock and disgust. We're not even out of Looniversity and we've got two eggs on the way!**

** "You know what infernal plane you can take your negatory vibes to, spook-girl," Shirley raised her bill haughtily. "And what's with the "Us" and "We" about this? You were gone, running off to throw yourself off the edge of the Universe – or this wouldn't have happened."**

** It wouldn't have happened, fer sure – if Someone hadn't wanted to play Factory Farm around here her aura snapped.**

** "We have one mondo huge festering guano heap of bad karma still to work off, remember?" Shirley nodded her material bill off towards Clarke and Maria. "I've paid off a few shovelfuls. And…" A small smile crept to her beak. "Our mallard liked it. It's no sort of career move for me but – maybe someday I'll want to try it again."**

** Way gross! Her aura psychically short-circuited, turned a sickly green in shock and melted into a pile of ectoplasm on the floor. Shirley scooped her up and poured her down the front of her false cleavage, a triumphant smile on her bill.**

** Melicent looked on fondly. "Plucky's a nice boy, of course," she whispered to Hal. "It's just as well folk don't know there's really two Shirleys – it might make wedding plans rather complicated." She gave a happy sigh. "I'm just not sure if I should congratulate him on joining the family – or not."**

* * *

><p><strong>Out in the deserts of KazakhsToon, any self-congratulations Danforth Drake might have had had long since evaporated – along with most of the moisture in his body. The helpful wind had died away after a few hours, leaving Danforth to discover the difference between a few hours flight around a timed course and a full migration.<strong>

** "Water … water …" he gasped, struggling to keep his wings moving. Ironically there was a sheet of it right underneath him – but that day he had discovered to his cost that any shallow pools sitting in the middle of glittering salt flats were not going to be drinkable.**

** Suddenly he blinked. At the edge of the desert there was a figure standing. It was not a rock or a mirage – someone was certainly standing there. "Maybe they have water – or transport out of here." He began to glide down, knowing that without a drink and a rest he would be hard pressed to take off again, especially on the flat desert floor.**

** "Ooof!" Two minutes later even his landing proved less than elegant as his knees buckled under him, sending him sprawling in the sand at the feet of the waiting figure.**

** Danforth blinked dust out of his eyes. He was looking at a highly polished pair of business shoes and a pinstriped charcoal suit. Not the sort of clothing one would expect a desert traveller to wear. The duck felt a crawling sensation in his stomach as he recalled who wore that in all situations.**

** "Your writ, Sir, duly served." Chemley the lawyer handed him a document. "Acting on behalf of the City of Acme Acres, a damages and liability suit. The Mayor will settle out of court for ten million in used, unmarked small bills, delivery details to be arranged."**

** "What!" Danforth spluttered, grabbing the document. It was genuine – and he recalled meeting the Mayor at an evening for Perfecto graduates. "I'll never pay that!"**

** "In which case, Sir, there is an option to return the site in question to the City – which will only cost twice what you paid for it." Chemley's sharp feline teeth showed in a false smile. "It is a most generous offer."**

** "No way!" Danforth spluttered, taking in his options. He was at the edge of the desert now; in the distance there was a row of telephone poles. They would lead him somewhere, even walking. "You can't enforce the law out here. That's why Perfecto linked here in the first place. This is KazakhsToon not Kokomo." He snapped his feather-fingers derisively, and started to walk away.**

** Chemley's smile did not falter. He had foreseen this, and by happy coincidence a professional organisation had offered the City free of charge a couple of trainees for the summer "for the public good". He pulled out his cellphone and began to make the call.**

"**The sheer nerve of it." Danforth grumbled as he trudged through the dust. "Chemley should know better. We linked Perfecto with the Portable Holes to this part of the world just because there's no laws you can make stick."**

** Suddenly there was a rumbling sound. A line of disturbed earth appeared on the horizon heading towards him, the familiar sight of a rabbit tunnel emerging from Hammerspace. Danforth tensed – suddenly he remembered just why Perfecto Prep retained Chemley. The lawyer had a perfect record; nobody had ever escaped from him.**

** "If that's the Acme Loo-sers, I won't sweat it," he whispered to himself, tensing up. He was sure he could buy them off with pocket change. But it was an unfamiliar rabbit that emerged – green furred and heavily muscled with a build one would expect on a bull rather than a bunny.**

** "Target, umm, sighted and stuff," the big buck rumbled.**

** Danforth did not wait to hear more. "Catch me if you can, you dumb digger!" Summoning the strength of desperation he turned into the wind and began to run, wings stretched out wide and ready to fly.**

** The bunny reached down into the burrow and pulled up something – or rather someone, a toon whose smaller figure barely came up to his chest-fur. Picking them up, he braced and hurled them like an Olympic shot-putter – unfolding in mid-air and landing on the run, that black-clad figure accelerated like a homing missile towards Danforth.**

** "Mister Ducky missed out on his date with the dry-cleaning machine!" It was a voice that chilled the fleeing duck with dread. "Gotcha!" Rymela, International Toon of Mystery, tackled the duck just as he clawed for the skies, and ground him into the desert like a surfer riding a board onto the beach. She stood posed on her capture while her partner photographed them. "Mister K he'll be happy, George."**

** "Ah, yeah," the big buck nodded. He had been teamed with Rymela for the summer job and looked forward to the months working as a bounty-hunting intern with her.**

** Rymela giggled. "Come and help stand on the ducky with me, George." With Danforth squashed flat beneath them, she opened her arms. Her eyes shone invitingly. George picked her up and cuddled with a force that would have crushed tree-trunks to splinters – but Rymela had discovered what she liked.**

** For a minute they stayed that way. Then Rymela looked at her watch, and sighed. "Oh poo. We've got to get back quick with Mister dusty ducky. But later – we'll be off duty." She sat down on the flat duck, a contemplative expression on her face. The idea of George, an empty beach and a blanket on the ground suddenly started to appeal to her.**

* * *

><p><strong>Back at Acme Acres, a few strategic phone calls brought a select gathering to Elmyra's house. <strong>

** Fifi and Rhubella turned up dressed in their best. Fifi wore a fragrant garland of roses in her head-fur, and Rhubella's dress had lit a designer's eyes with dollar signs.**

** "Eh, we 'ave ze hour to get to ze judge eef zis does not work out," Fifi whispered.**

** Rhubella kissed her. "I don't know if I should hope it does or not. We'll be wed anyway, this time next month. But – next month would be better, with everyone there."**

** Inside the house was a select crowd – the lawyer Chemley representing the City of Acme Acres, Mister K watching Rymela and George at work, and a securely duct-taped Danforth Drake.**

** "My client, the City, only needs you to sign one properly witnessed document – we have already contacted your bank to confirm you have the funds," Chemley purred.**

** Mister K nodded to Rymela, who un-taped Danforth's bill. **

** "You can't do this to me!" Danforth howled. "I have rights! I have lawyers!"**

** "Unfortunately for you, City Hall always has far more of both," Mister K mused, stroking his already immaculately groomed tail tip. "Of course you can refuse! In which case I shall simply leave you here with the charming young lady." He nodded towards Elmyra's big industrial dry-cleaning machine in the corner of the cellar. "I doubt this will be quite as damaging as Dip. But a random mix of organic solvents – who knows? Perhaps your colours really are non-fading. Perhaps you will live out your days as a modern day two-tone. How may we find out?" He winked.**

** "Silly ducky is all messy and yucky," Rymela giggled, reverting to her old self briefly. "Let's get him all clean and bleached bright as new."**

** "I'll sign! I'll sign!" Danforth shrieked in panic. "Keep her away from me!" His feather-hands were un-taped long enough for him to sign the scrapyard deeds back to the City along with all rights to them and his power over Fifi.**

** "Well, that appears to be that." Mister K cast an eye over Danforth. "Except that the poor drake is covered in tape glue. We can't leave him in such a state." He nodded pleasantly.**

** Nobody happened to be pointing a high-speed camera at the duck or the skunk at the time. It looked quite as if Danforth stumbled – Mister K tried valiantly to catch him – but Danforth fell into the open door of the industrial cleaner anyway. The door slammed shut with his impact, and before anyone could react the automatic cycle started. **

** At least, that was the story Chemley told to a grinning Mayor Warner. There was no hard legal evidence that anything else had happened. As the Mayor himself summed it up – "That's good enough for Government work."**

* * *

><p><strong>Three weeks passed. The other Perfectos were rescued from the desert by an undisguised Babs and Buster, who had not asked a cent in payment, only everyone's autographs. True, the signatures had been on what turned out to be Eastern Molvanian blank confession forms – but after holding out alone for another week even Roderick Rat signed and came back to Acme Acres. Finding Mary Melody there with K-Acme TV waiting to interview him live had been a well-designed adding of insult to injury that Mary gained valuable project points for. Sometimes her role of "Generic Good Girl" palled a little.<strong>

** At last a Friday evening came when Acme Looniversity let out its senior class of shell-shocked and anvil-bruised toons, who had just taken their final practical exam.**

** Babs and Buster stood on the steps of the Looniversity, watching through the windows as in the classroom they had just left Bugs, Daffy and the rest gathered up their notes and headed out to debate who had done the best "wild takes" and come out with the snappiest lines.**

** "Well, Bab-o-links," Buster grinned. "Here we are. We've done our sweating for the day. Now it's just sweating to hear the news." Behind them, the janitor Pete Puma was closing and locking the big main doors. The sound of the key turning to shut them out was loud in two pairs of keen rabbit ears.**

** Babs pressed close to him, a tear in her eye. "Oh, Buster. After all this time – it's over."**

** "It's only just starting," Buster assured her. "We've both got auditions for Hollywood and Bollywood too! Next month we start filming in Mumbai." The Indian film makers had been impressed at anyone who could do a four hour dance and song routine in one "take". **

** "Well, yes. But this part's over." Babs nuzzled Buster's fur. The buck had worked hard all that hot July day. One part of her bunny brain noted he needed a shower – but as another part sniffed approvingly and added '**_**but not just yet**_**.' Babs' round cotton-tail twitched. "Remember when we started! We were just three heads high! My feet were the same size as my torso!"**

** "And just as adorable." Buster stroked her long ears. "Heh. Poor Hamton was just one head high. His model sheet looked like a pair of bowling balls. Today you're a hot new actress, and a fine figured doe."**

** "Who has a fine buck who's a better singer. Go on – let me hear you." A wicked gleam was in Babs' eyes.**

** "What do you want to hear?" Buster asked.**

** "Oh – just scales would do nicely. I really want to hear your singing voice." Babs gave her most winning smile.**

** The buck cleared his throat. "Doe Ray Me…" he began – when there was a brilliant flash and the scent of lightly frizzled fur. **

** The doe put the low-powered Acme prop ray gun back into its Hammerspace holster. "Whoops – I forgot to turn this one in at the end of Prop class," she grinned. "Sorry – sometimes I just can't help myself." She kissed Buster on the nose. "So – school's out for Summer. School's out forever. What do you want to do, Blue-boy?"**

** "What we always do." Buster recovered from the "Freleng Frizzle" Take with the aid of years of practice. "Let's go to Weenie-Burger!"**

* * *

><p>"<strong>Aww, that test was a cinch." Was the first voice they heard as they approached the venerable fibreglass doors of Acme Acres' finest purveyors of new and reconditioned junk food. "Whoo-hoo! Did I ace it or what? I'm an ace! A mega ace! In Mega Wing Commander I'd have the ace's kill stars painted all the way down from the cockpit and half way down the wing!"<strong>

** "Sounds like Plucky's back to his old self," Buster whispered. "He told me he didn't need to revise for the tests – he'd bought a 'memory foam' pillow from a travelling salesman – and just put the textbooks under it at night."**

** "Let's just hope he's got as many exam points as ego points," Babs whispered back as they entered, paw in paw. "Hey, hey, the gang's all here!" She noticed the restaurant had set up its portable stage at one end. On it under flashing lights a familiar wacky dodo was wearing long spangled boots, dancing to a thumping early 1970's beat. "Go-go dancing. Heh. Who knew?"**

** "Like Hi, Babs! Hi, Buster!" They turned round to see Shirley sitting with Plucky. It was a familiar sight – except for the third party at the table, a disgusted-looking Loon aura.**

** "Shirley! And… Shirley!" Babs waved cheerfully. She looked closely at her best friend – they had scarcely had time to do more than wave to each other in the hallway on the way to exams all week.**

** The loon's feather-form was wearing her old outfit, a pinkish sweater (entirely un-padded today) with just a hint of makeup. Her slim feathered figure was just visibly swelling to Babs' keen eye. Her aura did not seem to be changing to match.**

** Babs giggled. "End of Summer, we can head out together and hang out at Acme Mall with the city's other bad girls, showing off our 'baby bumps'", she whispered.**

** Shirley snorted, but a smile was on her bill. "You and Buster are going to have to work mondo fast to do that, Babs. Like, that's the point of eggs, you know? I don't have to walk around with these weighing me down for long. I should be laying them in another month."**

** "Oh, right. It's an avian thing." Babs blinked as a thought struck her. "How will that work out, with you joining Colonel Fenix's bunch?"**

** Don't mention that name around here A powerful mental voice echoed inside Babs' pink-furred head. She turned to see the glowing blue astral shape looking furious.**

** "Ignore her, Babs," Shirley snickered. "So much for reading the future! She was SO sure Hal had gone out there to bring her home for his own nest – since the day they met she's had such a crush on him you totally wouldn't believe it. And now he's been – seeing a lot of Mother. He was way impressed with the way she opened up that Dimensional Door on the scrapyard site, fer sure. It's amazing that aura's still blue – not green with envy."**

** "Ooh. Things are certainly changing around here." Babs squeezed Shirley's finger-feathers comfortingly. "But I see you're still on the Tofu burgers."**

** That… cheap trashy feather-duster kills and eats defenceless, innocent shellfish – the murderess! The astral voice rang out again. I am not getting back into that polluted, flesh-eating body**

** Shirley's feather-form shrugged. "I'm not mondo keen on the idea myself. But my eggs need calcium and first-class protein." She looked at the Weenie-Burger menu, which was mostly variations on refried grease. "And you couldn't call anything around here exactly first-class."**

** "I've been teaching her to fish and forage," Plucky cut in. "Hey! I make a contribution too!"**

** If it wasn't for your little 'contributions' she wouldn't need to turn killer on me The aura commented sourly Or join up with that way uncool crowd of uniforms**

** "I'm joining them like because I promised and my word is my bond, 'kay?" Shirley's gaze was contemplative. "But – Colonel Fenix, he's been telling me more of what they do. Protecting the world from really uncool hostile spirits and junk – that should help my karma."**

** Babs' ears dipped. "Shirley," she whispered "how are you – getting on with that? You said, with you and Plucky … you'd seen a lot of timelines where you'd wrecked what was meant to happen. Stopped the show, even."**

** Shirley cast her a calculating look. "As if I needed any extra reasons to take care of these" – she stroked her feathered belly lovingly "I found out the show finds a way of going on. Plucky and Maria would have got it together – that's what I saw happening on all those timelines – because there's an egg of his the future really needs to be hatched. It will be, but in my nest now. That'll pay off a totally major piece of my karmic debt, fer sure. Getting Clarke back among the living helped too."**

** "Better not let Plucky know too many details," Babs nodded. "How's he taking to the idea?"**

** "He thinks he'll be off starring in Hollywood while I'm left sitting on the eggs." Shirley snickered. "We promised each other whoever gets the lowest exam marks, gets the nest. Could Plucky ever believe he'd lose? That Cartoon math test – "**_**how much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood**_**" – I know fer sure he was off by a hundred board-feet.""**

** "Oh my." Babs cast a sideways glance at the green mallard, who was boasting to Buster about the size of leading roles he intended to fill in the coming months, thanks to his out-of-this-world class experiences. "I hope he likes being a nest-potato as much as a couch-potato." She cocked her head to one side. "As long as you're sure Plucky's aura is what you really want nurturing them as well as his body heat." The idea of a hatchling with Shirley's powers and Plucky's ego … it hardly bore thinking about. Definitely junior Dark Lord territory, she warned herself.**

** "One of us has to – I'm not letting any cheap ACME incubator anywhere near our nest. And I've got my powers back. It's like I'd been going round blindfolded and now I can see again, you know?" Shirley cast a glance at her aloof aura. "She doesn't have to approve of what I do with them. If she's around, they're around. You can tell by looking at any energy crystal I'm in tune with."**

** Babs glanced down to Shirley's feather-hand; her mood-ring was glowing a deep green reminiscent of thriving woods in spring sunshine. Images of harmonious content and blossoming fertility seemed to flow from it. "Just like the One Ring. **_**One mood-ring to rule them all, one mood-ring to find them … one mood-ring to bring them all and in their karma bind them…**_**" she misquoted, grinning.**

** "Fer sure. I've learned my lesson – not to use my powers to try and bend the future my way." Shirley concentrated, levitating off the seat with a serene smile. "Toons get what they deserve. I learned that in my real short incarnation when I was a warrior riding with the fowl horde of Attila the Hen."**

** "Hmm. If you could have looked in the future and seen the consequences of that you could have decided not to look into the future in the first place and…" Babs' ears tangled into a recursive knot. "I'll leave that one to Calamity to sort out!" QuanToon Physics were a class she had never liked, and had dropped in the second year leaving it to Bookworm, Calamity and (oddly enough) Fowlmouth. The subject linked into comedy certainly, but mostly by the comic consequences of experiments going hideously wrong – and being hit by faster-than-light Strange Matter anvils from the next dimension had never been her idea of a good comic role.**

** "I'm starting with Colonel Fenix on August the tenth. The stars say it's an auspicious day." Shirley mused. "He's got this totally undercover team of Astrologers working at NASA – they'd be thrown out of there as major heretics to science if they were caught. They get to use all the telescopes and computers. Who'd know more about the stars?"**

** "Mmm." Babs sipped her carrot-cola. "It's only just starting to get to me, Shirley – this is really going to be over. That was our last exam – we're not going back in that classroom again." She briefly spin-changed into Elmer Presley complete with microphone and white rhinestone-studded outfit. "**_**And now I got the cure, for those Elmer Fudd blues!"**_** she sang.**

** "We've done enough homework, fer sure." Shirley raised an eyebrow. "And – we've got a lot to look forward to. I don't need to channel Nostradamus to get that prophesy."**

** "Shirley the Loon... once just a humble Medium – soon to be a world-class Extreme!" Babs wrapped her ears in the shape of a mystic's turban. She looked around the packed Weenie-burger restaurant, storing up the memories. This really was the last time they would be meeting after class; class was already a thing of the past. Gogo Dodo was leaving at the end of the month, to do the strangest thing anyone who knew the wacky bird could possibly imagine – lowly office work in Neo-Mega-Tokyo as a "Salaryman" for a registered Japanese Evil Mega-corporation. She wondered if he would take the weather with him – in Wacky-land when the forecast predicted "the odd shower" it was likely to be definitely odd – quite possibly anchovies or custard. "So, what do you predict next? Now you've got your mojo back on side. Sort of." She winked at the annoyed-looking aura, who glared back.**

** Shirley concentrated, feeling the thrill as the spirit world responded to her and showed her the auras of all living things within spell-casting range. Being restricted to her physical form had been like being forcibly confined to bed in a dark room, when she wanted to freely run and fly in the sunlight. Her perceptions expanded as she saw the branching threads of probability unspooling in front of her and her friends. "This is so totally weird … I'm seeing a great mental void approaching."**

** "Here comes Elmyra, I bet," Babs made a prediction of her own. "Montana Max once said she had the IQ of spore mould – and you know, nobody's wrong all the time. Not even him." She paused. "Though Elmyra's improved a lot. She's twice as smart now."**

** The door opened and all eyes turned – it was Elmyra, or rather Rymela, dressed in her new practical grey-black outfit. She was not alone. A huge, hulking green-furred lepine was with her – he picked her up, cuddled her with a noise like crushing steel girders, and placed her oddly gently on one of the high stools. Rymela giggled.**

** "Buster was telling me they're already teamed up to practice evenings and weekends," Babs whispered. "Trainee bounty-hunters. Other toons in the team track the fugitives with detective work, get within range then launch Elmyra at them. They're going to be a hammer and anvil team – he's the solid backstop, she chases toons into him." She reflected. "Or maybe George's called the anvil because that's how much smarts he's got. Though that goes for Elmyra too. She's still dumber than your average sledgehammer."**

** "A cute and furless human all mine to hug and squeeze and love… forever." Babs heard a voice, but strangely enough it came from Shirley behind her.**

** Shirley blushed, embarrassed as she clamped her feather-hand tight on her bill. "Like, sorry. That was from George. I was tuned into him and that thought was so mondo over-powered it – swamped right through me. I couldn't help picking up a lot more." She paused. "Babs. Do you want the bad news or the good news?"**

** "Eeehh… I've got a pair of lucky rabbit's feet, bad news I can dodge. But I'll take the good news." Babs looked on. The buck was regarding Rymela as if she was a pile of diamonds rather than the toxic swamp most of the Acme Looniversity students had always thought her. George rubbed his cheek ruffs against Rymela, who giggled again and pressed back though with her puny human sense of smell she probably could not even tell she was being scent-marked.**

** The loon shrugged. "Fifi and Rhubella's makeover has taken root. You won't have to worry about being hunted any more by her – not unless your name's on an official Wanted poster."**

** "And the bad news?" Babs blinked.**

** Shirley gave a wry smile. "I don't know it's really bad – except maybe for you. Remember that day Mary and Jaggi came in through that door together?" She nodded significantly at the human and hare couple.**

** Babs tried not to stare as Rymela nestled up close to the hulking hare, her fingers gently twining in his fur. It was not the most unbelievable couple; that had to be Sweetie and her Velociraptor mate. The image of Sweetie as one of those rubber pencil-top toys had stuck in her mind at her first sight of them and refused to go away. "Oh no. Please say it isn't so. I didn't mind it so much when it was you, or Fifi … or even my own nerdy sister… but me, the one and only Babs Bunny getting beaten to it by Elmyra? That's like being outwitted by Professor Fudd – you'd die of embarrassment! And what sort of rabbit would ever want anything to do with her?"**

** "As in, that one. Hate to say it but if I ever saw a 'dumb bunny' he's it."" Shirley commented. Suddenly a wicked grin came to her beak. "I'm not looking into their future, Babs but under Toon genetics – what do you think?"**

** "Hmm. Insanity and stupidity on both sides of the family, what's not to like? They'd have the first kids ever with negative IQ!" Babs thought hard. Suddenly her fur turned pale, a neat trick and one proving that Toon biology was a stranger field than most would expect. "No. Under the Law of Conservation of Comedy – their every litter would be full of Nobel Prize winners. Four-figure IQs. They'd have to invent new Prizes just for them. Their brains would make Calamity Coyote's look like the solid concrete one Concord Condor uses." She sighed, her pink form drooping. "And then there was one, me. It's virgin' on the ridiculous! I'm a disgrace to Bunnydom! If I was a Perfectoid, I'd sue that Wedding Peach boutique."**

** Shirley blinked. "Bad vibes, Babs. Haven't they done a way harmonious job for you? You loved the dress design. Totally retro-chic damsel territory, but it's what you wanted isn't it?"**

** Babs suddenly grinned, her ears back upright. "It's not the quality I'm complaining about – but they don't tell you the real price of a white wedding! Can you believe, Mother told me to go to my sister Bonnie for advice?"**

** She relaxed, looking around. There was a heady mix of emotions in the air; relief at finishing the exam mingled with realisation that this could be the last occasion of its kind. Some of the class such as Concord Condor she might not see again until graduation, and afterwards possibly never again. She mentally checked herself; Concord had been offered a Government staffing position in WashingToon, and might end up proving the boast that absolutely anyone really could become President. At the least, he would be a fine choice for vice-president; any president would have the hideous threat of Concord left to run the country as perfect insurance against being impeached or assassinated.**

** "Ahh…" she confided to Buster. "Remember the end of term party, this time last year – you made Hamton laugh so hard that he blew milk out of his nose?"**

** Buster smiled, hugging her. "You've done that to me. And better. You made me laugh so hard I blew a quart of milk out my muzzle. The impressive part is, I was only drinking weenie-cola at the time."**

** "Well, we all have our talents." Babs watched as Gogo Dodo left the stage and Plucky boldly stepped up. "And now Plucky will clog-dance till the living envy the dead."**

** "And not just Plucky." To everyone's amazement, Shirley donned wooden clogs and joined him in a rousing double-act that made the seismographs panic halfway across California. Buster winked. "You said Shirley joined the cheerleader squad to balance her karma? Doing something publicly embarrassing in a good cause? That should count double. Triple, even."**

** Babs shook her head, mutely. Shirley loved to dance, but not that way. **_**Expect the unexpected**_**, she mentally quoted from the Acme Loo guide book. "Heh. Wonders never cease."**

* * *

><p><strong>Back at Perfecto Prep, Rhubella swept through the senior rooms with a knowing smile on her face. She had arranged the rest of her class to be retrieved from KazakhsToon, on the condition they restore her status – "<strong>_**And for another reason you'll find out about later on**_**" as she had mockingly addressed the shocked and dusty toons who emerged from the rabbit tunnel two weeks before. They would mostly be distracted from taking their revenge, just waiting for that axe to fall – only someone who was supremely confident of winning without it would give up her 'last toon standing' automatic triumph.**

** "Next week you graduate, Miss Rhubella. Top in the class!" The voice was from Irma Falco of the first-year Clique One, who she had picked to watch her back. "They're already sending you presents." Irma looked around the senior area, marvelling at the luxury and privacy. The corridors in the lower years' areas had discreet plaques on every corner: "**_**This area is subject to video recording for entertainment and potential blackmail purposes"**_** – internally at least, Perfecto was sometimes honest if it cost nothing.**

** Rhubella laughed. "I know. I've examined some of them. Don't eat any of the chocolates! How they managed to package a live wasp in every other one… that's classic Perfecto cuisine. And the rest are laced with military grade purgatives. Eat one and you'll find out what your gall bladder looks like." She cast an eye over her favourite chair by the picture window. "Irma. Check that for surprises. Carefully."**

** The fish-hawk nodded, selecting a shed feather and running it under the chair. She paused. "There's a fine nylon thread running into the cushion there, Miss – but my T-pad sensor doesn't spot anything metallic." **

** "Don't eat the chocolates, and don't sit down there. At Acme Looniversity they'd just use a joke-shop whoopee cushion. Here it's an all-plastic landmine." Rhubella shook her head ruefully, while Irma T-mailed the Perfecto servants to come and discreetly dispose of it. "And they just have to be somewhere around to gloat. Come out, wherever you are," she called out to the apparently empty room.**

** There was a second's silence – then one of the designer secret panels in the wall slid back to reveal a very annoyed-looking Roderick Rat who had been waiting behind it with camera poised. "And you're the one talks about gloating," he grumbled.**

** Rhubella looked him up and down, taking in the designer-cut of his impeccably tailored flak jacket. Naturally, the seniors had made it a priority to get cleaned up and outfitted again as soon as they had returned to Perfecto; outwardly they were the same poised and polished crowd as before. But their self-confidence had taken a severe pounding – with her friends from Acme Loo she had not only exiled them but brought them back when she felt like it, for her own reasons. She felt a slight twinge recalling the way she had been before, and how she really would have crowed over their humiliation.**

** "Oh no, Roddy. I think I'm beyond that. I've had a little more education than they list on the Perfecto timetable, recently." She walked out onto the balcony, a glowering Roderick following her.**

** "I know where you got that from. The Acme Loo-sers. How could you?" Roderick shook his head wonderingly. **

** "Because it worked – didn't it?" Rhubella's eyes flashed fire. She knew she would be wasting her breath trying to convince him she had turned her back on Perfecto principles when she opened her heart to Fifi. "That's Acme Looniversity, to you. The losers now are someone else - a bit closer to home. Try the nearest mirror."**

** Roderick ground his teeth in frustration, unable to deny it. To make things worse, Rhubella was looking stunning in a way that no beauty boutique could have managed even for its most influential client. There was a serene quality to her that she never had before; even the most powerful Perfecto seniors felt compelled to always check for threats behind them. "How could you do it? You and me, we had – leverage. Influence. A real base for a serious power-play. You'd give that up – for what? You're not the kind of Toon who works on shticks and slapstick – you've got nothing in common with them. And as for that hobo skunk… you're a rat, not a polecat. You're both girls, even! You're incompatible in every way."**

** Rhubella hesitated. It was true that her family had never lived by toon conventions – they had always preferred sense and science over slapstick. Suddenly, she thought of Fifi and realised that she no longer cared about anything else. **

** Just at that dramatic moment, perfectly timed in the fullest Toon tradition, a pure white feather spiralled down from the empty blue skies. Rhubella felt her heart racing as she reached out and caught it, pressing it to her chest-fur. It was a stork feather. "Oh. So it'll happen that way for me." She took a deep breath, a small smile on her face as she willingly accepted the traditional 'annunciation'. In the Springtime she and Fifi would be watching the skies eagerly, a toon baby basket all prepared. "Looks like me and Fifi, we're compatible after all." Toon conventions entirely ignored unfunny things like biology when the plot had to go on. **

** Roderick might have boasted that Perfecto despised such conventions, but his Wild Take was an Academy-Award winning sight to see. Toons often enough went up in smoke – but as the shock hit him, he went up in fountains of infra-red decoy flares and a spewing blizzard of anti-Radar chaff like a jet fighter caught unaware and ambushed.**

** Rhubella looked at the sight for a long moment, then turned her back on him. She pulled out her T-pad, and dialled Fifi's number. "Fifi? You've told me about your Professor Fudd. We should invite him to our wedding next week. In fact we need to." She paused, and gave a happy sigh. "Tell him he won't need any ammunition. But it'll be a shotgun wedding after all – and he's the only one I know who's got one."**

**The End (of the Beginning.)**

**Next time – Seven Brides for Seven Bunnies. **


End file.
